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nereidprinc3ss · 8 months ago

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you know the killer doesn't understand

in which spencer is so terrified he's going to hurt you after he gets out of prison that he can barely touch you. an argument ensues.

angst (+ comfort) warnings/tags: established relationship, fem!reader, mentions of violent intrusive thoughts (non-specific), arguing, yelling, use of the word rape, nightmares, happyish ending, mention of showering together, it's a bad time but it's also a good time for us woo i love angsty angst a/n: i miss posting for real so bad i dug up this draft which was mostly finished and polished it up. i think i really like this one and it was based on a request but i lost it:( i hope u guys enjoy this, pls lmk<3

Spencer is by no means happy with his sudden fear of touching you—it makes everything in his life significantly harder and less convenient and he hates that he’s constantly afraid he’s going to break you. He hates watching you hold back from attacking him with a hug when he enters a room like you used to, and he feels terrible every time you ball up on the opposite side of the couch as he reads, waiting for an invitation into his lap but too scared to ask for one (he’ll always hold out his arm for you, though—he’s not cruel.)

You’re adorable in the way you stand at the foot of the bed in your pajamas, arms behind your back like it’s not your bed too, but it makes him feel terrible. This isn’t at all what he wanted for you, and in all honestly he’s thought about ending the relationship because he knows he’s being an absolutely awful partner—but he just can’t bring himself to. Instead, he gestures for you to get into bed, and you curl up under the covers close to him but not against him, and he’ll play with your hair and read for a while because he can’t sleep very well. Eventually he’ll assume the position of sleep, but some sick part of him doesn’t know what to do with the sounds of the city and the fan instead of the sounds of a hundred men rolling and sniffing and shuffling around their echoey cells. He doesn’t understand warmth anymore, or softness, or nice pajamas or fluffy pillows. He’s starting to think he doesn’t understand you. And that’s the worst thought of all.

So he essentially dozes for the first week, on and off, always exhausted in the mornings but what’s new. When he can’t sleep, he turns his head to watch you breathe—some beautiful, sweet creature dreaming in his bed, unwaveringly loyal to him even though he can hardly stand to touch you for fuck’s sake. You’re beautiful, and it makes him feel better to watch you, even if he can’t touch you. Not now that he knows what he is capable of doing to another person. What if he has some sort of PTSD—PTSS, thank you, Luke Alvez—induced dream and does something terrible to you in his sleep? It’s not like you’re tiny, but he’s stronger, he knows he is, and lately every time you get too close he remembers exactly what it feels like to exert the full force of that strength, and what it feels like when someone else unleashes their own onto him.

They’re just intrusive thoughts, and in them he doesn’t hurt you intentionally, but he always feels a little bit sick now. He is so, so sick. A bull in a China shop. Spencer knows exactly how breakable humans are—it’s his job to know. If he left so much as one red mark on you by accident, he’s quite sure he’d drill down to a previously unknown rock bottom. And if he reaches that point, he doesn’t know if he’d ever deserve to come back.

Every day it seems to become clearer that the only humane thing to do is break up with you. But for now he’ll watch you sleep—the delicate rising and falling of your chest, the way you curl in on yourself because you can’t curl into him. In sleep you look so peaceful and content. You never look that way awake, anymore. Not when he’s around, which is pretty much always. At least he can’t disappoint you while you’re asleep.

Or so he’d like to think.

Until one night, about a week and a half after he gets home; you whimper in your sleep. It’s so quiet he could’ve missed it, but he doesn’t, and then he watches your smooth brow furrow with worry and he knows you’re having a nightmare immediately.

Spencer panics—before, he would have woken you up and held you and comforted you until you fell back asleep and it would have been so simple. Now he’s frozen, afraid to touch you but not sure if he can just lie there watching you so afraid and not do a thing about it.

In the end, you choose for him—and it only takes a few moments. You’re close enough to him that it’s easy for you to close the few inches even in sleep, and maybe you’re slightly conscious but not enough to remember you’re not supposed to touch him.

He stops breathing as you fold yourself against him, muttering worried nonsense—he catches his name, once—nestling against his chest, one searching arm gently draping over his waist. Every muscle in his body is rigid, and his thoughts—his mind goes… completely fucking blank.

Suddenly, all he’s known, all he’s ever known, is the smell of your hair, the warmth of you seeping through layers of clothing, and the weight of your arm over him. Everything he ever was ceases to exist, and he’s just this, right now. The person you’d turned to unconsciously for comfort, so sure, so trusting that he would keep you safe. He can feel your breath for the first time in months. Slowly every tense muscle unspools. For the first time in a long time he doesn’t feel dangerous. He doesn’t feel like his entire body is spring loaded and ready to attack at the slightest provocation. Spencer allows himself to hold you, and part of it feels like betrayal because he knows how badly you need this from him while you’re awake but mostly he feels like he could cry. His thumb rubs circles into the middle of your back and your head tucks so perfectly under his chin while he studies the rumpled sheets where you’d been lying a moment ago. He almost feels like sticking his tongue out to gloat at your half of the mattress—haha, look who gets to hold her now—but instead he sighs, shakily, and squeezes his eyes shut.

You don’t make another sound for hours.

He’s reluctant to let you go when you begin to stir around six AM, but forcibly holding onto you is so far from what he wants to do that he manages. You roll back over to your own side of the bed, and he continues admiring you from afar until he falls asleep. It’s the best three hours of sleep he’s had in a very long time.

Of course, you don’t remember it. When you wake up your sadness resumes, and so does the pretending like you’re not sad, but you’re a very good sport—and it helps that he’s feeling much better this morning than he has since he got back.

“Good morning,” you whisper faintly, still blinking as you watch him longingly from your spot.

Spencer pushes himself up onto an elbow, and you watch with big eyes as he leans over you, stroking your cheek with his free hand.

“Good morning. You sleep okay?”

Your brow flickers, and he realizes it’s not a question he asks every morning, and you’re probably distracted by this overt display of affection, but you answer it obediently anyway.

“I think so. I had weird dreams.”

He hums.

“About what?”

It’s quiet for a moment as he takes in the exact spattering of microscopically fractured pigment over your irises. Your voice is small when you finally speak.

“Do I have to tell you?”

That hurts.

“No. But it might help.”

Coming from him? Ironic doesn’t even begin to cover it.

You acknowledge him with a small hum of your own, studying him with soft, mistrustful eyes.

He can’t help it anymore—Spencer leans down and gently kisses you, so tenderly, so chastely, it makes his own head spin. He hasn’t kissed you like that since you picked him up from Milburn. It’s long overdue.

Which is why he’s not expecting you to start crying. He pulls back immediately, not far, just enough to assess your expression.

“What’s this? What’s wrong, angel?” He frowns. Your lip quivers in a way that feels like a blow to the chest.

“That’s not… you’re…”

“What? What is it?”

A fat tear finally traces a path down your cheek and when you speak your voice breaks in the most fragile, devastating way.

“You’re not being fair.”

He has no neat question to summarize all the bafflement your accusation inspires in his lately cloudy head, but the wildly confused look on his face must be prompt enough.

“I’m trying really hard to respect your space and boundaries and not upset you but my feelings are hurt, Spencer, I don’t know how they couldn’t be. I feel like you don’t even like me anymore. I’m embarrassed around you because I feel like I care about you so much more than you care about me. And then you—and then you wake up one morning and you think it’s okay to act like you love me again but I can’t—I c—” you stop, obviously frustrated—now crying in earnest and lacking the words. “You can’t be mean to me. I know you’ve been through a lot and I’m sorry but you can’t treat me like that. I’m a person, too.”

His chest aches and he swallows down barbed wire.

“I’m not acting like I love you. I do love you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything in my life. That’s not an act.”

It’s not an adequate response, but your words are still spinning in his head until he can’t keep up with them. He’s not used to this, anymore. The language you two had developed is so foreign now.

Maybe he just doesn’t know how to talk to you.

Resignation—a too-calm recognition softens the stormy look that has brewed on your face. As soon as it’s gone, and you’re looking at him placidly, he realizes he’s afraid.

“Well, that’s not enough,” you whisper.

Spencer feels like he’s been shot as you push the covers aside and slip out of bed. And he knows what that feels like.

“Where are you going?” And then louder, when you don’t hear him because you’ve already left the room, “Where are you going?”

He follows you through the apartment as you march purposefully for the door, slipping shoes on and grabbing your keys and coat.

You barely look over your shoulder as you leave, slamming the front door behind you. Things shake from the impact. A mini earthquake.

Spencer is too stunned to follow you.

It’s not until a few minutes later when he goes to call you that he realizes your phone is still sitting on your bedside table. He stares at it, tasting metal, because he has absolutely no way to reach you or guarantee your safety. There’s no way for you to call him, or anyone, if you get in trouble—and he fears that you’ll retaliate against him by doing something stupid and dangerous.

He only just manages to stop himself from calling the police and asking them to start looking for you. Only just recognizes it to be an overreaction.

Besides, he’s not feeling particularly fond of the criminal justice institution these days. If it came down to it, he’d trust himself and his team over the cops any day.

The team. They’re always a resource. If worst comes to worst, he thinks, robotically making coffee as he tries to talk himself down, and she doesn’t come home before dark, I’ll call all of her closest friends. If she doesn’t come home before the morning—the thought makes him feel sick—I’ll deploy every fucking resource at my disposal.

Maybe that’s an overreaction, too, but he has to find a way to self-soothe somehow. Planning makes him feel better. Being prepared for the things you never see coming makes him feel better. It’s impossible, of course—but the illusion of control is stubborn and so seductive.

Thankfully, it doesn’t come to that.

At around 2 PM, he receives a couple of texts from Garcia that are a massive relief.

Penelope: She’s at my apartment

Penelope: BE NICER TO YOUR GIRLFRIEND!!!!!!!

The series of emojis that follow (including an octopus?), he doesn’t even try to decipher. He simply drops his phone and sighs deeply into his hands, releasing an extreme amount of paranoid tension that had been tying him into knots. Lately, he’s had this sense that everything is fleeting—that the things he takes for granted are painfully, violently impermanent. It doesn’t take anyone with a degree to figure out why he’s been feeling that way, but it’s so all-consuming he’s not sure how to cope with it. Just a few days ago, he’d been wondering how to break up with you. Now he’s asking himself how the fuck he thought he’d be able to do that when he’s barely functioning after a few hours without you.

It’s a question he still hasn’t answered by the time the front door opens at 10 PM. It’s clear by the deer-in-headlights look on your face that you hadn’t been expecting him like this—leaning over the counter, half-empty mug by his hand, staring at nothing in particular and waiting for you to come home. Neither of you have changed clothing since this morning—not that you could—but you look apprehensive as you close it behind you, never facing away from him. The whole thing is like a teenager being caught sneaking back in by a weary parent.

For a moment the silent confrontation stretches into the horizon, a non-specific point as neither of you seem inclined to be the first to talk. You just watch him watching you—leaning against the door rigidly as if you can’t get far enough away. But he’s too tired for this. Too worn out.

“How’d you get home?”

You swallow.

“Penelope.”

Spencer nods slowly, rolling his bottom lip between teeth and finally looking away.

“You really should have brought your phone.”

You scoff, peeling yourself from the door.

“Of course that’s what you’re worried about.”

It’s the same situation as this morning, but in reverse—him following after you down the hall as you storm toward the bedroom.

“Wh—should I not have been? You scared me—” he says your name, barely catching the door before it can slam in his face. “I was worried about you.”

“Why?” you face him, laughing bewilderedly as if the situation were at all funny. A kind of manic energy crackles from the surface of your skin and in your eyes that renders him unable to think of a reply. “Because you thought I would get raped and murdered and then you’d be sad?”

“Yes!” Spencer yells, eyes widening as he fails to contain his frustration any longer. “That is fucking exactly why I was scared!”

You step forward, getting in his space. It jars him, momentarily—he wants to get away from you. Being angry and so close to you is terrifying. What if he lashes out? What if he hurts you? He’s seen crimes of passion. His blood is freezing in his veins.

“Of course you didn’t give one single fuck that I left you. You didn’t think for one fucking second that I might be tired of this. That wasn’t what you were scared of at all.” For every inch you near, he backs away. Another scorned, bitter laugh from you that feels like poison coursing through his entire circulatory system. You notice everything, eyeing him up and down as he cowers from you. “What is this, Spencer? If you hate being near me that much, just fucking break up with me.”

You’re close enough that he can see the tears welling in your eyes, but he’d know they were there even if he couldn’t observe them. He would hear it in your voice. He would feel it. But he can’t do anything about it. Right now, he’s paralyzed.

“If the only thing holding you back is wanting to spare my feelings, just fucking do it. This isn’t better. I don’t give a fuck if it’s hard for you. It’s hard for me, too, but I’m not just going to ignore it anymore.”

There’s no more room. The wall is at is back.

“Honey, please back up,” Spencer breathes. Last time his back was to a wall, he’d been gagged and beaten. Don’t lash out. She never hurt you. It wasn’t her.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” you shout, as tears begin to spill over your cheeks. “Either break up with me or stop telling me to go away!”

At that moment, as you break down and your words become muddled with sobs, you raise your fist.

Spencer watches it approach his shoulder as if in slow-motion.

On instinct, he catches your wrist.

There’s a lull as he waits for something to explode, for something to go terribly, deeply wrong—

But it doesn’t.

He realizes his grip is gentle. He realizes you’d never actually hurt him like that. He realizes how little resistance he’d found when he stopped what was sure to be nothing more than a petulant, petty bump against his shoulder—a maneuver that wouldn’t have hurt in the slightest. It was nothing more than a desolate, childlike display of feelings bigger than you know what to do with.

In the second that it takes him to realize all of this, to realize he is not endangering you in the slightest, nor you him, you’ve begun to truly sob. Standing just inches from him, head angled down as he holds your wrist carefully, you are the picture of a girl who has been running on empty for a very long time and has nothing left to give. Spencer twines his arms around you, tucking your head under his chin and slowly rubbing your back like he’d never forgotten how to hold you. It stuns you, and the tears pause for just a second—before you’re wrapping desperate, weakened arms around him and sobbing even harder, albeit silently, into his shirt.

“I don’t want to break up,” he whispers, his own voice shaky with understated emotion. “I’m sorry. Please don’t say that. I don’t want that.”

“What’s wrong with you?” You cry, a desperate plead caught between sobs that wrack your body against his against the wall. And he knows it’s not an accusation. It’s not an insult. It’s a question borne of confusion and fear. It’s what a child might ask a sick dog while tears stream down feverish cheeks. And it’s completely appropriate, considering he never tells you anything anymore and he’s only just realizing how scary that must be. Spencer is back from prison but you may as well still be living alone for all that you know about him. He tangles a hand in your hair and holds you against his chest, breathing you like nitrous oxide.

“I don’t know,” he whispers. The room beyond blurs as he stares at nothing, focused only on the tingly euphoria of feeling you under his hands clashing with the ever-present and crushing shame that he couldn't do it sooner. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you—to be sorry.” Shuddering breaths and gasps still cleave your sentences in half, and Spencer listens so intently he thinks there might be harmonics hidden in the layers of your voice. He clings to every syllable like you’re wielding the word of god in a five-foot-something body. “I just miss you so m—much. I want you to—to love me.”

“I do,” he promises immediately, lips pressing to your ear. “I do love you. So much. So much.”

When you don’t respond, he’s not exactly surprised. He almost asks what he can do, what you need—but is quite sure that’s not the right move. Instead he doesn’t say a thing. Only holds you.

Later, you’ll pull back and he’ll swim in your teary gaze, and then kiss you. He’ll trace silent apologies into every inch of your skin under the torrent of the shower, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make you understand. But for now, for the first time in months, you’re holding each other, and that’s all either of you need.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic

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ravenslvt · 11 months ago

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fucking your ex boyfriend in the bathroom of a party.

☆ multiple x f!reader ☆

cw: smut, mirror sex, public sex, rough sex, hate sex (sort of), tension, alcohol, oral f! receiving, v fingering, spanking, pet names, praise, sex with feelings, unprotected sex

you don’t know how your bestfriend managed to rope you into coming to this party, all you did know is you wanted to get plastered while she found someone to hook up with.

you held onto her for dear life as you made your way through groups of people. mostly strangers, but you saw some familiar faces. you started to feel a bit nervous when you noticed some eyes roaming your outfit. maybe you should’ve worn a longer skirt…

your bestfriend’s eyes immediately spotted a pretty girl across the room, she gives you an apologetic smile. you roll your eyes.

“just go” you sigh. at least someone would be getting some action tonight. you make your way to the kitchen where there were bottles apon bottles layed out on the counter. you grab one of the disposable cups, pouring yourself a mixed drink before downing it. the liquor bringing a comforting burn down your throat.

suddenly, you felt a cold chill in the room. you look around, there were no windows or doors open. until finally, your eyes immediately draw to a pair of familiar ones. oh great, he’s walking over. you turn around, pretending you didn’t notice him, hoping he’ll walk past you.

“oh, c’mon. acting like you didn’t see me?” he leans against the counter next to you, a drink in his own hand. fuck, he still wore the same cologne. the smell almost made you dizzy. he was wearing an unfamiliar jacket, it looked new.

his name rolls off your tounge in a harsh greeting, taking another swig of your drink. he gives a lopsided smile. “still mad at me, pretty?” he takes your empty cup, refilling it for you the way he knew you always liked it. you give him a glare. he puts his arms up in defense. his body looked bigger, more defined. he was clearly working out more since you two broke up.

you snatched your cup back. if you were going to be forced into this conversation, you might as well be drunk.

“why are you here?” you ask, your eyes never leaving his own. he was drawing you in without even trying.

“i was invited. why are you here?” he pokes your shoulder with his pointer finger.

you just point to your best friend across the room, who was now making out with the cute girl from earlier. he huffs out a small chuckle. “that girl never rests, does she.” he comments. you just shake your head, “no she does not.” you sigh, another swig.

his eyes go back to you. more specifically, your outfit. you had a new top on, he’d never seen it before. he’d have remembered seeing such a pretty shirt on you before. and of course, you wore your favorite mini skirt. the one he always loved you wearing.

“this is cute, wear this for me hmm?” he smirks, his fingers playing with the bottom hem of the skirt. you swat his hand. he was the one who bought it for you. almost fucking you in the dressing room when you tried it on after doing a little spin for him.

“no… i just had nothing else to wear.” your face flushes. you didn’t know if it was from the alcohol or from the fact you were both thinking about the times you’d sit on his lap in this skirt, panties off while you bounced on his cock.

god, he loved that skirt.

you could feel yourself clench around nothing just thinking about it. he gets a little closer when he notices your flushed state, his fingers drumming against the table filled with alcohol. his damned fingers that knew every part of your body.

ok, you were definitely a little drunk, or maybe you were just stupid.

your back slams against the door of the bathroom, the blasting music muffled from the small enclosed room.

your lips met in a hungry, bruising kiss, tongues fighting for dominance. his large hands gripped your waist, your head forced against the wood. he moves one of his hands to shove between your thighs under your skirt, his fingers digging into your panties, making you whine into his mouth when he pinches your clit.

“fuck, this wet already? missed me that much, sweetheart?” he mumbles into your mouth, pulling away to pull the flimsy fabric down your legs with his free hand. of course you wore your favorite panties, the ones he bought especially for you. the sight made him groan.

“i’m not your-“

“i wasn’t talking to you.” he stares directly at your slick pussy. great, now he was talking straight to your cunt.

you look at him with glossy eyes as he kneels down, kissing down your thighs. you hook your fingers into the waistband of your skirt, but he gives your thigh a slap. “keep it on. i wanna see you get fucked in this pretty little skirt again.” he practically growls as he gives your thighs a few more kisses and bites, marking you up.

“want everyone to see you still belong to me.” he sucks marks into your upper thighs, placing a few where your little skirt couldn’t cover.

you mewl his name when his tounge delves into your sopping pussy, his fingers pulling your folds apart to get more access. your hands grip his hair for some stability as he laps you, his tounge switching from flicking your sensitive clit to prodding at your tight hole.

he replaces his mouth with his fingers, pumping two into your cunt as he suctions his lips onto your bud, making you bite your lip to prevent yourself from screaming out, almost drawing blood.

“fuckk!” his long fingers hit deep inside of you, his digits shifting between thrusts and curling inside. your legs shook, hands gripping his hair for dear life. giving him a particularly hard tug, he groans into your cunt, the vibrations making you let out a moan.

the mixture of stimulations had you on the edge, he knew you were about to cum.

time almost seems to slow as he feels you clench around his fingers, your eyes flutter shut, gripping his hair for dear life as pools of fire seep low in your abdomen. his fingers continue to pump into you as you cum, wetness dripping down his chin and wrist.

it was probably obvious you hadn’t fucked anyone since you two broke up the way your pussy responded so well to him.

still, he doesn’t pull away, addicted to the taste of you. he was completely lost in your cunt until you pushed at his head, whining his name. he reluctantly pulls away, giving your cute clit a few more kisses before parting.

you both pant, his face glistening in your slick. you almost moan at the sight.

“you taste even better than i remember, baby.” his hands sooth down your thighs.

“don’t call me that.” you heavily breathe. he just chuckles, standing up. his firm hands grab your ass, giving it a firm smack, making you yelp.

“face the mirror. wanna watch you take my dick.” he pats your hip, encouraging you. you obligated, finally seeing yourself in the mirror. your lip gloss was completely smeared, making you pout a little. until your ex boyfriend comes up behind you, his hard on pressing against your ass. his hand wrapped around your waist, his head resting on your shoulder as your eyes meet in the reflection.

his other hand reaches to wipe the smeared lip gloss, cleaning it up for you. his fingers tap your lips impatiently, seeking enterence. your eyes never broke contact. you open your pretty little mouth, his two fingers sliding in. you groaned as you tasted yourself on them. he grinded himself against your rear, hiking your skirt above your hips.

“gonna let me fuck this messy pussy?” his fingers enter deeper into your mouth, almost making you choke. you nod, swirling your tounge around his digets.

“mhmph” you mumble around them.

“gotta tell me how much you missed me first.” he teases, removing his fingers to slowly undo the button of his pants. you roll your eyes.

“just fuck me-“

smack

your ass stings, you were sure there was gonna be a red mark the size of his hand. you whimper.

“what was that, pretty? use your words.” he purred into your ear, biting your earlobe gently, nibbling marks down your sensitive neck.

“fuck, i missed you so much, i need your cock so bad-“ you whine his name. “-i touch myself thinking about it- but nothing is as good as you.” you shamelessly confess, a smirk growing on his smug fucking face.

“good fucking girl.” he growls, taking his raging cock out from his briefs, his hand pressing down on your back so you bend over the sink to give him easier access.

you mewled as his leaking tip pokes through your enterence.

he slowly sheathes himself in, savoring the feeling of your hot walls contracting needfully around his cock. “god, it’s been so fucking long. it’s like she’s sucking me in.”

your fingers gripped the counter in front of you, your eyes focusing on his own. the way his face scrunched once he was burried balls deep inside of you. his deep breaths, the way his hair slightly stuck to his forehead from how much he was sweating.

you’re about to speak, but your words turn into moans of his name as he thrusts in and out of you, his hips slapping against your ass. your head rolls down to rest against your arms on the counter, but he doesn’t allow that.

his hand that isn’t wrapped around your waist goes to grip your throat, pulling you back against his chest.

“watch yourself get fucked by your future husband.” he grunts, his thighs burning from all the rutting, but he’d feel that pain forever if it meant he could be able to fuck you like this again.

you watch as your tits bounce through your shirt in the mirror, drool threatening to spill from the corner of your mouth. the mirror was big enough that you could see his dick pumping into you. obscenely wet sounds coming from where you two meet.

“o-oh fuck, feels s’good, don’t stop!” you moan out, staring at him in the reflection. he was so focused on the way you felt around him, he had almost forgotten you two broke up.

“oh god, baby. i fuckin' love you, need your pussy every day, can’t live without it.” he bites your shoulder, hard, making you groan. his hand moving from your throat to grope your tits through your top. his hips only slapped into you harder and harder, your vision going blurry when the head of his cock hits your soft spot. you let out chants of his name, your arms reaching back to grip his hair to bring him impossibly closer.

you stared at yourself in the mirror. the way he slid in and out of you with ease made you squeeze around him, prompting a groan from him. your hair was out of place from his rough treatment, marks down your neck and thighs. you couldn’t even think about having to explain this to your friends later.

“squeezing me so good. so perfect for me. gonna let me fill you up, hmm? walk around with my cum dripping out of you, let everyone know you’re fucking mine.” he thrusts with a bruising pace, your whole body rocking with the rolls of his hips.

“p-please yes! need it so bad!” your mind starts to blank, the only thing you could think about was the way he was pulsing inside of you, threatening to spill at any minute.

“touch yourself, baby.” he pants, his thrusts getting sloppier. he was so close, but there was no way he was going to cum before you. you nod, bringing a shaky hand to your ruined pussy, rubbing and pinching your clit the way you liked it. your mouth fell open at the overwhelming pleasure taking over.

“m’gonna cumm!” you whine until the only thing you can say is his name, over and over. just how he always loved it. he whispers dirty praises into your ear, talking you off the ledge. you force your eyes to stay on his own in the mirror. you hated how fucking hot he was.

waves of intense heated pleasure start to roll over you, moaning as your vision gets blurry with tears of ecstasy. “s’good!” you scream, tightening around him, making it hard for him to move. he curses as you grip his cock so tightly, milking him so hard he cums inside of you.

you pant as his thrusts get lazy and eventually slow to a halt. he didn’t want to pull out, but he knew he couldn’t just stay in here with you forever, no matter how much he wanted to.

he pulls out hesitantly, the mixture of your release dripping out of you making him let out a harsh breath.

you finally come down from your orgasm, completely fucked out. oh how much you missed his cock. and him too you guess.

he turns you around, giving your cheeks kisses before enveloping his mouth with your own. your tounges gently roll over eachothers, contrasting in comparison to how he was just fucking your brains out.

your phone lights up on the counter with a text from your bestfriend. you squint, reading the message.

‘bitch i’m leaving. don’t think i didn’t see you guys btw -_-‘

he wraps his arms around your middle, seeing the message.

“gonna come home with me?” he leaves even more love bites down your neck, making you sigh.

“…yea”

GETO, gojo, SUNA, atsumu, leon kennedy, toji, kuroo, dick grayson (sorry not sorry), your fav ;)

masterlist

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sxorpiomooon · 28 days ago

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What kind of person are you truly? The good and the bad - a pac reading

for the days when you feel like no one knows or truly understands who you truly are, including yourself<3

Paid readings

tip me

Pile 1-

What's up with you guys and the number four? Were some of you also attracted to the fourth pile or what? Washing machine heart comes to my mind but I said heart? These people might love talking about love and might be interested in philosophy as well. Do you guys like nail paint? This pile is very feminine, even for the ones that feel like they are not you are trust me. You guys might have a good venus placements? Perhaps libra I'm not getting much pisces but could be cancer as well. You guys are calm and compassion "hold me, console me" played in my head I said heart again instead of head. You guys might love the sea? You guys also like cinnamon girl by lana del rey. Do you enjoy juices or perhaps coffee? I heard "I can bring others happiness without sacrificing my own" and honestly please do learn that. Stop making unnecessary sacrifices that are not needed stop pulling yourself in the front of a train. You don't have to be the one in the front of the bullet every time. Oo you guys like good shoes and I think they'll suit you well. You are calm and comforting providing comfort to way more people that you know while constantly being hanged on by a thread yourself oohoo start sewing or crocheting you guys might be good heard gemini perhaps bc it's done via your hands. People also see you as an "ideal feminine woman" btw alot of girls around you might want to be like you. Do you guys like winters or mufflers hahahahhaha. You are someone who likes to hype other people ho do you like concerts? Someone passionate and determined I saw an ink pen and jo march. You have a spark in you and remember no matter how much other people might try to steal it it will remain yours no matter what.

Pile 2-

OOO this is the pile of our high achievers and ambitious people the ivy league and the pile that is on the top. You guys like to be aware of everything happening around you I keep seeing a newspaper you keep in touch with all the news and buzz around you. Very quick to notice eyes and body movements lmao. You like to be two steps ahead of everyone I see you living your life very dramatically hahah bc it adds twist. This pile has people with very very high standards and that want to and will make it very big. You guys are constantly building yourself up and levelling yourself up via your skills. Constantly learning to be at the top and never lose their position I keep hearing ceos and all that. You guys love to have titles in front of your names might have capricorn or virgo asc in their d10 or I'm seeing sun rahu conjunction or something. Wants to be at the top and will be at the top. I see these guys being winners public opinion also matters you alot in a way that you want everyone to see your success and clap for you and so they will. You guys want to be at the authority this might piss alot of you but y'all might be like your father's like him started playing. You guys might have control issues and might start acting up/tweaking when you lose it. Stop ignoring other aspects of life

Pile 3-

I thought of the word "therapist" before I pulled the cards and looking at the cards y'all need to talk to one instead of being one<3 to start with the good you guys are brilliant leaders and bring happiness whenever you go. It's like a street filled with unhappy people will be happy and bought to joy if we send you there. You have the ability to make things and people work. You have the ability to make things feel hopeful and have people wishing of the best even when they almost gave up. You are able to hype other people ho and sort of bring them hope. You are sucessful and some of you might have good family backgrounds as well privileged in some manner? Alot of respect or authority is just handed to you I heard resources? This pile has people that are OBSESSED with working not because you like it or something bc this is just something that happens to you naturally. You don't know how to never not work. You also might sometimes be obsessed with the luxurious things not because tou like it but because you want to show off or like prove it to other people? I think some of you didn't have these luxuries growing up so now when you are capable of having them you own them even when they bring you no happiness. This pile has alot of unresolved traumas and a emotional baggage. This pile might have or will have to leave alot behind to get in this position. Honestly I feel like this is not who you are currently but this is the future you. I feel like this reading is for the people who just need to hear that they will be okay and they will make all their big dreams that seem unreachable or unattainable to other people come true. I'm rooting for you my pile 3

Pile 4-

you might forget things while speaking or thinking only your mind might get foggy? This pile might be struggling with some of their issues alone I'm seeing face acne but could be any other issue that you are insecure about. You guys sort of choose to deal and suffer alone. I heard "void" and a song that translates to "please don't go like this" keeps playing in my head might be scared of getting left by people or might have the fear that they will never be known and loved for who they truly are. But how would you even know that when you will never reveal or let other people see who you truly are? in order to be loved for who you truly are you must first reveal to other people who you truly are. This pile feels ashamed to ask others for help. This pile might like lip gloss/lipstick or might look good in them. It's crazy how they deal with their problems and issues alone because all and everyone's eyes are always on them. Everyone is always looking at you and all the eyes are always on you. My pile four, you shine so bright and I think you do know this but I don't think you are able to truly grasp how much bright you shine. It's like if you are in a room full of people there is only you in front of people's eyes. And this is not something that's romantic but something that there just is. You are truly charming and enchanting. Your presence demands to be looked at and be appreciated. You make people feel hopeful and look at the bright side. You can find the light for other people even in the darkest of the streets. A true poetic by heart naturally filled with the desire to create and articulate. It's very tragic how everyone's always looking at you yet you are so lonely and alone. I heard poetic again and saw a dove? You will find your match my pile four. You will find the love and light that you give to others. Fourth of July by sufjan stevens started playing. You guys might like the piano too.

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navybrat817 · 6 months ago

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Out of My Head

Pairing: Chubby Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky feels a bit insecure during a romantic evening and you do your best to get him out of his head.

Word Count: Over 2.6k

Warnings: Unprotected v. sex, dirty talk, possessiveness, a/b/o dynamics, insecurities, self-doubt, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes and he's crazy about you (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: More Beach Fun Nonsense! Hope you lovelies enjoy. @missvelvetsstuff, @honeyglee (chubby!Bucky), and @bucksbabee (rose petals) all requested for alpha!Bucky to Go for a Swim (smut) with prompt #27 and #32 in bold. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky wanted tonight to be romantic. Candles, rose petals, the works. Not for any sort of special occasion, but because his omega deserved only the best. Day in and day out. He hoped it was enough to make you feel loved and adored. It was a wonder that you were with an alpha like him.

If you looked inside his head, you’d tell him there was no reason for him to think he wasn't the perfect man for you. That he was a good partner and alpha. Had been from the start. That you loved him. And you did. You never once gave him a reason to doubt that.

If only he could push away the negative voice in his mind that seemed determined to bring him down tonight.

“Bucky?”

Tilting his head, everything around him became muted as he focused on you. Laying on your side with your naked body exposed to him, he watched the candlelight cast a glow upon your skin. Both of you lost your clothes earlier in the evening, content to lay beside each other for the time being. He wished some days that you didn't have to wear clothes at all. You and your body were made to be worshiped.

Unlike him.

Bucky almost covered himself up with the blanket. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment it happened, but he was soft in places where he was once firm. While he had been on the thicker side for years, he now had some pudge to go along with it. Handsome or not, he just wasn't in the same shape he used to be when he was younger. What if one day you didn’t like that? What if you wanted someone different? Stronger?

Better?

“You're thinking too hard again,” you said, picking up one of the rose petals to brush across his forehead. He smiled when he realized you traced a heart. “I can feel it.”

He inhaled your scent to ground himself. Orange, cinnamon, honey. The aroma of you made his mouth water. It comforted him, too. He hadn't associated any kind of smell with a sense of home until you.

“I’m thinking about you.”

“Oh, yeah?” You smiled, nuzzling into your pillow more as you gazed at him. “What about me?”

“Just how amazing you are,” he answered.

When he looked into your eyes the first time, he expected to see his imperfections staring back at him like they had with so many others. But the way you looked at him with kindness, acceptance, and want, everything fell into place. Pieces of himself he didn’t know were missing found their way back to him and made him while again. His heart didn't stand a chance.

It belonged to you.

Beautiful. Perfect. Mine.

How is that possible? How does a goddess want me? What the hell is wrong with me tonight?

“You know you look at me some days like I'm not even real?” You asked, reaching over to run your fingers through his hair. He moaned and turned his head to nose along your wrist. He craved your touch and scent like nothing else. “Like you're in some sort of a dream and you're afraid you're going to wake up if you look away.”

“Because you’re everything I could ever want. You occupy every single thought in my head, and every single dream,” he whispered. Even his dreams couldn't come up with someone as amazing as you. “And maybe I am afraid that this isn't real.”

Your brows pinched. “Why is that?”

He leaned over to kiss your forehead, wanting to ease the worry from your face. “I’m not sure. You just seem too good to be true and it feels like I might wake up to find you gone. Or that one day…” He rested back, swallowing hard. “You’ll decide you just don't want me anymore.”

You whined, a distraught sound that broke his heart. He wanted to take back those words, but he didn’t want to hide his feelings no matter how much it hurt to talk about them. “Bucky, I’m not going anywhere.” You shook your head vehemently as you sat up. “And I want you. I always do. Why would you ever think I wouldn't want you?”

“Because look at me.” He waved his hand over his torso, averting his gaze as if to hide his vulnerability. “How can someone like you want someone like me?”

He wanted to take the words back the moment they left his mouth when another wounded whine spilled from your lips. You placed your hands on his cheeks and brought his gaze back to you. There was mist over your eyes like you were going to cry and he wanted to chase that look away. “How can I want you? Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are? How wonderful you are?” You kept a hand on his face as the other slid down to his neck. “Bucky, look at me, please.”

His eyes slowly opened. He hadn't realized he shut them. “Doll, I’m sorry. I-”

“You're perfect. Inside and out. And don't say you aren't because you're perfect to me.” There was a hint of a growl on your tone as your hand moved lower. Well, as much of a growl as an omega could muster. You defended him so fiercely. “No one takes care of me the way you do. No one loves me the way you do. I’m the luckiest person in the world because I get to call you my mate.”

A strangle moan escaped when your hand brushed along his stomach. He never thought it would feel so sensitive, but no one else has really touched it since he got bigger. Except for you. “Omega.”

“You think you aren’t everything I want?” You tilted your head so he could see the mark he left. His chest swelled with pride. You never covered it up or put a collar over it, wanting everyone to see that you were claimed. He had a mark, too.

He was yours just as much as you were his.

“I know in my heart that you want me, I know that. I can feel that. But my head keeps reminding me tonight that I’m just bigger than I used to be and I have no idea why,” he said, shutting his eyes again. “It’s stupid.”

Why was his body such an issue this evening? This was supposed to be romantic, not a time to pick at his inner wounds. Maybe there was a reason he wasn't aware of. Maybe he needed to cut the wounds open so the warmth of your bond could slowly heal them.

“It isn’t stupid. Your feelings are never stupid, do you hear me? And you being bigger? Isn't that just more of you that I get to love?” There was no disgust or judgment as you rubbed his stomach again. Your sincerity almost made him choke up when he opened his eyes to gaze at you. “Bucky, believe me when I say that this isn’t a dream. This is real. I'm real and I love you. I’ll love you no matter what. That is never going to change.”

His chest rumbled at your declaration and he couldn't help but reach for you, needing to feel your body close. “I love you, too.”

He closed his eyes again when you pressed your lips to his. The bond crackled with your affection and care before his tongue slipped past your lips. The crackling intensified, your desire and need flowing into him like molten lava. It was going to burn him alive. He’d gladly perish that way.

Thank you. I love you. I’m sorry.

“Feel this,” you urged when you broke the kiss, putting his hand over your heart.

“Is that for me?” He asked as it raced under his touch.

“It’s only for you, Bucky,” you promised, slowly guiding his hand down your body. “Now feel this.”

You didn't stop until his hand rested between your thighs. “And that’s for me?” He growled as he touched your pussy, your slick coating his fingers.

You gasped and he half expected you to agree that it was, but you pulled away. He tried not to let his insecurities bubble back up and hoped his scent didn't change to something unpleasant. You assured him that he was perfect in your eyes. That you wanted him. And loved him. But it didn't mean you had to-

“It’s for you. Only you,” you said, turning toward the front of the bed to press your chest against it. “See, alpha?”

Bucky sat up as you raised your hips higher and presented yourself to him. He growled softly as he licked away the wetness from his fingers and eyed your twitching, slick-drenched hole. The blood that roared in his ears quickly rushed south and the beast inside snarled at the insecure voice to not say another word. You wanted him. Would always want him. You assured him of that with both your words and your body.

“Take a good look. It’s such a pretty hole for you to ruin. You want to ruin it, don't you? Ruin me?” You asked sweetly, briefly lifting your head to look over your shoulder. The blue around Bucky’s pupils shrank to a small ring, barely visible from how aroused he was at the sight of you. “Please, wreck me. Make me say your name.”

He had a hand wrapped around his cock, the alpha within him clawing to break through the surface. Biology would've screamed at any alpha to take you. Knot you. Breed you. But you didn’t want just any alpha. Wouldn't beg for just any alpha.

He was the alpha you chose.

“And you know that isn’t my instinct talking since I’m not in heat. This is me wanting you, Bucky Barnes,” you said as if you read his mind, snaking a hand between your legs. He almost wished you were on your back so he could play with your beautiful breasts, but he had all night to do so. “I’m so wet for you and so empty. I’m aching. You don’t even have to prep me. Just get in me. Take me.”

You gasped when he was suddenly behind you, his large body draped over yours. “That’s my pussy you're touching, omega,” he growled, pinning you down by the neck. “And I’m the only one getting you off tonight.”

“Yes, alpha,” you purred.

His belly rubbed against you as he raised your hips an inch higher and he tensed up only for a moment before he realized you pushed back against him, trying to take him in. He growled as he sat back and looked down at you, your body quivering from the low and feral sound. Deeply inhaling, he could taste your lust and love on his tongue from how strong it was. As much as he wanted to dive down and devour you, he needed to fill you up and leave his mark inside you once again.

“Not just gonna ruin you with my cock,” he said, brushing the thick head of his cock between your folds. “Gonna ruin you with my mouth after. Make your flood it with that sweet slick and drink it down ‘til you scream how much you love me.”

“Yes. Please, alpha. I want your cock. Your mouth. Anything,” you begged, keeping your head down when he folded over you again. You didn’t fear his size or weight crushing you. It excited you. He could smell it.

“You need me?” His lips brushed the shell of your ear. “Say my name.”

You whimpered when he pressed himself against your entrance. He tried to go slow since he hadn’t prepped you, but you could take him. “I need you. Only you, Bucky,” you sighed, trembling as he pushed in an inch more.

He gasped out your name, powerless to resist the pull as he sank as deep inside you as he could. His eyes fluttered when you clenched around him. Nothing felt as good as your slick cunt. Tight, but opened up for him so beautifully. And nothing else mattered or existed outside of you.

“Move, please. Don’t hold back,” you moaned.

Overwhelming pleasure flowed through him as his body blanketed yours. You embraced every part of him and he wanted to smother you with his scent. “Remember, omega, you begged for this.”

Whatever sense of control he had disappeared as he thrust, the slapping sound of skin on skin and his grunts a stark contrast to the romantic setting of the room. You couldn't push your hips back, but your pussy welcomed each movement as you cried out. Even with his vicious thrusts, it was somehow sensual when he nuzzled your neck.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

“Yours,” you moaned.

He hadn't known he said the words aloud, too lost in his primal haze. By the sounds of your moans and feel of your clenching walls, you were close already. It pleased him knowing how much he pleased you. He wanted to draw it out, make it last. He also wanted to bring you over the edge again and again.

“Does that feel good? You love getting fucked by your big, strong mate?” He grunted, heat pulsing through his veins.

“Yes. So strong,” you whimpered, reaching back to grip his hair. “So big.”

He groaned, raw pleasure bubbling through every part of his body. “Yeah, I'm big and you love it. And you love my cock ruining your pretty hole?”

“Yes, Bucky. I, hmm, love your cock.” You mewled when his teeth scraped along your skin. “Love you.”

He nosed along your neck again, slipping a hand beneath your body. “Then show my cock how much you love me,” he ordered, teasing your swollen clit. “Come all over it.”

You screamed his name as promised, slick gushing as you spasmed around him. He didn't stop, his hips snapping faster and harder as you shook through it. To feel you let go and hear those sounds of ecstasy as you rode out the waves was an honor. He needed to join you on the ride.

“Such a good omega. My omega. Gonna fill you up. So. Fucking. Good.” He growled the last word as he spilled inside you, panting with his release. The sensations blended with your earlier words, surrounding him in bliss. You were bliss.

Careful not to crush or jolt you, he rolled to his side and took you with him as he stayed nestled inside you. He murmured praise against your skin as you snuggled back against him. He didn't want to leave your body just yet. Not when you felt so good. Not when the terrible voice remained quiet.

About time you shut the fuck up and let me enjoy the evening with my mate.

“Better?” You breathed, looking over your shoulder with hopeful eyes.

Both of your hearts racing still, your purr mixed with his rumble, he wondered why he was so bothered before since his insecurities weren't a constant thing. Everyone had their off days though, including you. Sometimes for no concrete reason at all. That was life, but he couldn't ask for a better partner and mate to help him through the ups and downs, big or small.

“Much better. Thank you,” he whispered, brushing his lips against yours. “But one more thing.”

“Yeah?”

He wrapped his arm tighter around you and didn't flinch as his stomach pressed more against your back. “I love you, too.”

Always, my sweet omega.

And should you ever doubt his want or love for you, he’d be sure to assure you the way you did for him.

Lovelies, I was TERRIFIED to post this, but I'm in love with them. Maybe we'll see them again? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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rosenclaws · 3 months ago

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Jinx (or 5 times you mess things up in front of Logan and 1 time you don't) || Logan Howlett x Reader

summary: You bring bad luck and have all your life and when you meet Logan you expect him to react the same way everyone has. To your shock he doesn't. That doesn't stop you from making a fool of yourself in front of him though. Many. Many times.

warnings: flirty logan, swearing, reader has mutant fire powers, fighting, logan has ptsd in water, he lashes out bc of it, possible ooc but idc, fighting, injury, comfort, blood, explosions

wc: 5k

a/n: Okay so I fucking LOVE arcane and I thought about a fic where the reader is like Jinx in the sense of she just has really bad luck all the time. She also has fire powers because I think they're cool and after that one drabble I wanted to do more with it. This is my longest fic so I hope you like it!!!

The First meeting

You might be the first mutant with a nickname that is more of an insult than a call sign. It started when you arrived here. Just a teenager looking for a place to call home. The mansion was that home and you loved every second of it. Your fire wielding powers were dangerous but exciting and with the help of the teachers you sort of learned how to train them.

But for some reason you didn't get some cool fire nickname you got stuck with Jinx. It's not your fault that bad things just happen around you. Really. You don't do anything to cause them on purpose but the bad luck seems to just follow you where ever you go.

You got the nickname after you managed to break the fountain. Seriously though how can that be so fragile. All you did was kick a soccer ball and you might have taken its head off.

Bad things just seemed to happen over and over again. You might have set fire to some curtains. Or the carpet. Or smashed a vase or two.

Even when you graduated and became a teacher things just happened. Missing papers, breaking pencils, the ceiling caves in because a family of fat racoons decided to make their home there. Things that were out of your control just happened.

So they called you Jinx. Was it lovingly? Maybe.

No one has kicked you out yet so that's a good sign. They do tend to avoid standing too close to you though. Which honestly is for the best.

It was a commotion in the main lobby that catches your attention today. The sound of a gruff voice peaks your interest. Peering into the room you see Rogue and Storm talking to a man.

"It's good to see you Logan." Oh! Wolverine.

You missed his first stop by the mansion. You were off doing something else for Charles when he was brought here originally and you were supposed to fly back to help as usual. You flight got canceled due to weather. So by the time you came back he had already gone.

You heard Rouge gossiping with the other students about him. She mentioned he was handsome but fuck he was even better than you thought.

You lean forward a little more and end up losing your balance and falling flat on your face. The three of them look at you and you wave, trying to save yourself some embarrassment. You can see Logan looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Jinx! Come meet Logan." Rogue calls you over and you stand up. Brushing yourself off as you walk over.

"Nice to meet you Logan." You hold out your hand but he just looks at it.

"Jinx?" He says instead. A smirk on his face as he speaks.

"It's a nickname, don't you have one too Wolverine?" He chuckles and you have hope that you're charming enough. Most of the time something really unlucky happens when you meet someone for the first time.

"Will I see you around Jinx?" If you didn't know better you'd say he was flirting.

He steps closer to you and you stumble back in surprise. He's intimidating with his broad shoulders and animal like grin. You let out a small scream as you trip on your feet and fall backwards. Right into Scott. Scott falls like a domino and you hear a crack.

"Scott! Are you okay?!" You rush to his side but suddenly a beam of energy shoots through his eyes.

You feel someone grab your arm and pull you away from him. Ducking your head as the beam shoots into the door. Scott closes his eyes but the damage is already done. The front doors of the beautiful mansion were destroyed. Everyone waits in silence as Charles appears from his office holding an extra pair of glasses for Scott.

"I'm so so sorry. I didn't mean to bump into you." Apologies tumble out of your mouth as Scott fixes his new glasses.

"Don't worry about it, It was an accident Jinx." He places a hand on your shoulder and smiles but you can tell you fucked up. Again. You smile back but it falls once he leaves.

"I'm sorry about your door Professor." You mumble as you look at the destruction.

"It's alright, we'll get it fixed." You slowly walk off, letting people asses the damage.

You pass by Logan who watches you as you slink back to your room. You had hoped that maybe you could have gotten to know Logan before he found out how you got your nickname.

So much for first impressions.

2. In the kitchen

The next time you encounter Logan is in the kitchen. Despite your inherent unluckiness you still loved to cook. Sure you had cuts and burns from all your attempts but your dishes ended up pretty good. You're making a stew this time. Band aids are already on some of your fingers as you stir the pot.

"Smells good." You let out a scream as you drop the spoon into the soup. The fridge opens up and you see Logan rummaging through the shelves.

"Beer's behind the peas." You mumble as you try and fish out the spoon.

"Ow!" You hiss as you burn yourself again.

The hot metal spoon burned your hand. Logan watches as you put your hand under the sink and put some cold water on it.

"Ironic I know, the mutant with fire powers burns herself when cooking." You mutter catching his amused look.

He walks over and takes your hand, pressing his cold beer to the small burn. You sigh as the cold drink sends relief through your hand. You get a better look at Logan like this.

He's just dressed in jeans and a tank top. His muscles are practically bulging through the already stretchy fabric. He's got this dangerous aura around him that makes you hesitant at first. Not to mention the whispers about him. How violent he could be, the things he’s done. Everything he’s been through. But you didn’t care.

"So is Jinx because your clumsy?" He asks as he checks on your burn.

"Kind of, more like unlucky things just seem to happen to me I guess." Your eyes are focused on where Logan's hand is holding your wrist.

His hands are rough but his touch feels so nice. His grip is firm but not enough to hurt you. The fact that he's even helping you is bizarre. Anyone else would just chalk it up to you and let you deal with it yourself.

"I'm surprised you haven't run for the hills yet. You know, the first day you meet me I end up destroying the door." To your surprise Logan laughs.

"Technically Scott destroyed the door." He counters.

"Yeah well I broke his glasses." You take your hand away from his beer and turn your attention back to the soup.

For some reason Logan doesn't leave. He watches you as you cook and you like the company. You tense as you feel him get closer to you. His chest almost against your back as he peers over your shoulder. He's so close. You take a wooden spoon this time and stir the soup. Lifting a little bit to your lips.

"Can I have a taste?" Logan asks.

You turn your head to find his face incredibly close to yours. Really close. So close that you can barely focus on anything other than his lips. You don't notice the burner getting more intense as all your focus is on Logan.

"Shit!" Logan hisses as the soup practically explodes all over the kitchen. Soup splatters every possible place including your clothes. Making a massive mess.

"Dammit!" You turn down the burner and see if there's anything left you can salvage but there's nothing. You must have caused the burner to go haywire.

"I'm sorry Logan." You say defeatedly as you wipe soup from your forehead. Logan takes his thumb and wipes the soup off your cheek.

"Tasty." He says as he licks his thumb. He doesn’t break eye contact. Enjoying the effect he’s having on you.

You stand with your mouth open as he walks off like he didn't just do that. The flames on the burner get bigger once again and you turn it off. You grab the roll of paper towels and start to clean.

The faint touch of Logan's thumb still on your mind.

3. In the garage

After your kitchen disaster you found yourself wandering the mansion instead. It had been a couple weeks but you decided to avoid the kitchen for now. Now you had too much free time on your hands. That's how you ended up here, in the garage. Except this time it was you who found Logan. He was working on his motorcycle. Shirtless. Okay that's totally normal right? You think to yourself as you sit and watch.

"When did you learn how to ride?" You ask as you watch him screw in something to somewhere, you don't know too much about motorcycles.

"Long time ago." He answers gruffly as he wipes his forehead with a rag.

"Like ten, twenty, a million years ago?" Logan chuckles and stands up. Your eyes trace the veins on his arms as he puts his hands on his hips.

"More like a hundred." He sits on his bike and turns it on. He's double checking everything and notices you looking in awe.

"You ever ridden before?" He asks and you shake your head.

"Alright then come here." He gestures for you to get on and you perk up. He gets off and holds the handle bars, letting you get on. You're extra careful. This bike looked expensive and Logan had just spent hours working on it. The last thing you wanted to do was jinx things. Again.

"Woah." You giggle as you run your hands along the smooth metal.

"So you put one foot here and the other stays on the floor." He guides you gently and you do as he says. You place your hands next to his on the handlebars.

"When I was a kid I this bike. It was purple with a basket in the front." You tell him. You loved that bike. Rode it whenever you could. You had the bruises to prove it from the amount of times you fell off.

"I rode it into a bush once. Got these bumps all over my skin." Logan takes his hands off the bike leaving just you holding it up.

"Well it's no purple bike, but I can take you on a ride one day. There's this diner about twenty minute away if you’re interested.” He offers. You grin and tighten your grip on the handles.

"Sounds like you're asking me on a date." You say boldly.

Before Logan could say anything there's a loud bang. Backfire from something but it scares the hell out of you. Without thinking you heat up the bike and jump off of it. Logan tries to grab it but the handles burn his hand. You watch in horror as it falls on its side. You try to stop it but it only ends up landing on your foot.

"Fuck!" You grab your foot as pain shoots through your body. That thing is heavy. Logan clutches his hand for a second before the burn heals. He picks up the bike and kicks the stand open so it can stay up on its own. Your eyes brim with tears when you see the dirty and scratches that have ruined the newly cleaned shiny metal.

"Logan I'm so sorry." He sighs and walks over to you.

"Your foot okay?" It hurts but it's not broken. You try to set it down but you can't. The pain is too much. You try to hide it but he sees right through you.

"Let's get you to the lab." You try to protest but he doesn't listen. Helping you out of the garage and to the lab. Ignoring the fact that you just caused him even more trouble. As you get patched up he leaves. You hang your head low as you think of a way to make it up to him.

Later that night Logan can't sleep. The nightmares don’t let him. So he makes his way back down to the garage. He needs to start over on fixing his bike anyways. As he approaches the door be notices the lights already on. To his surprise he finds you there. Fast asleep with your head on a chair.

You're body is uncomfortably kneeling on the ground. Your foot is wrapped and there's crutches leaning against the wall. There's rags and wax sitting by your side and his bike looks brand new. He kneels down and shakes you awake.

"Hey there sweetheart." He says as you open your eyes.

You mumble something incoherent and shut your eyes. Logan bends down and picks you up in his arms. He carries you back to your bed laying a blanket over you as you melt into your pillows. He elevates your foot before he leaves. People may call you a Jinx but you've got a heart of gold. He goes back to the garage and cleans up everything, making a mental note to take you on that date when you're foot is better.

4. Ice Skating

It took a month for your foot to finally heal up. Broken no, fractured, yes. It was a pain trying to get around on crutches but Logan ended being your own personal transportation. He would help you get down the stairs, reach the high shelf, drive you to the store. Whatever you needed he was there.

He even took you to that diner. Sharing a milkshake and cheese fries. He looked past your nickname, sure he called you Jinx but when he did it felt sweeter. He had seen your unluckiness first hand and yet he still chooses to be by your side. It was all you ever wanted.

Sure you had friends at the mansion but you could tell they thought of you as a small burden, a nuisance. They were still kind to you but you always saw their faces when something went wrong. With Logan there was none of that. He embraced every part of you. Now with your foot all healed and the winter starting to settle over the mansion you were all clear for winter activities.

Your favorite one being ice skating. A large pond was the perfect place for you and some of the kids to go. Logan had tagged along but only did so because you begged him to go. Pretty please with a cherry on top was enough to get him to chaperone.

You skated along with some of the kids. Others had set up an ice hockey game. It was pure childhood joy. Something that these kids didn't get all the time. Logan was sitting on a bench by the edge of the pond just watching. You skated over and put your hands on your hips.

"Come on Logan, you can't just come to the lake and not skate." You whine. He raises an eyebrow and stays put on that bench.

"I don't do skating sweetheart, or lakes."

"Ten minutes, just ten minutes and I'll leave you alone." You pout and clasp your hands together. He stares at you for a moment before relenting.

"Fine." You let out a happy cheer as he laces up the pair of skates you got for him. You hold out your hands as Logan struggles to balance on the skates.

"See, you're a natural." Logan wobbles and lets out a string of curses as he tries to walk on ice.

"Shut up." He says with no bite in his voice.

Your fingers interlock with his hand as you start slow. This was hell for Logan but seeing your smile made it worth it. You skate around the lake with him, laughing when he glares at the kids who laugh at him. Seeing him so out of his element was funny.

"Okay that's it I'm done." He grunts out as you come to a stop near the middle of the lake.

"Thank you for trying." You know he's not really having fun but it meant a lot he was willing to even get on the ice for you.

"Teacher! Jinx!" A loud cry comes from the kids. You gasp as you notice the ice starting to crack. You made sure the ice was thick enough. You triple checked how could this be happening. You see Logan start to panic so you take action.

"Everyone stay calm!" You yell out.

"If you can make it off now then do it. If you're too far away then I need you to get on your stomach and spread your legs out. Then slowly crawl to the edge. Anyone who is off the lake help pull others to safety." You stay as calm as you can as you make sure everyone is safe. To your relief the ice stays intact as the kids make it off. Now it's just you and Logan. There's fear in his eyes as the cracking gets louder.

"We need to do the same thing Logan. It's going to be okay." The two of you get onto your stomachs and army crawl towards the edge. A student with super speed has already gone to get help thank goodness.

"Fuck." Logan panics as the ice starts to give way. You grab his hand as he starts to freeze.

"It's okay it's okay." You're close to the edge but not close enough.

You yelp as the ice breaks and both of you plunge into the water. You try to keep your grip onto Logan but he's sinking fast. The water is bringing back horrible, horrible memories as he struggles to breathe. Your head barely bobs above the surface as you see familiar faces running towards you.

Water fills your lungs as you scream when Logan's claws nick your arm. He plunges them into the dirt. Trying to pull himself up and out. Your body is becoming numb and every movement hurts. A pair of hands drag you out of the water. You cough violently as you grip onto the frozen grass. Trying to catch your breath. Logan's eyes are wide as he does the same.

"Are you okay?" You reach out to him but he snaps.

"Don't touch me!" He snarls and your heart plummets. His eyes are unfamiliar as his teeth bare like an animal. For the first time since you've met him he's angry with you. Really fucking angry.

"I'm sorry I..."

"I'm sorry Logan, I didn't mean to scratch your bike, I didn't mean to explode the fucking soup. Is that all you can say?!" He shoves off the people trying to help and stands up. His face cold and unforgiving as he looks down on your shivering body.

"You really are a fucking Jinx." You let out a sob as Logan walks away.

A fluffy blanket feels like ice against your skin as you're ushered back to the mansion. You hear Storm trying to talk to you but everything sounds like white noise. Your heart is stomped and crushed right in front of your eyes and you can't even blame him.

You're nothing but bad luck.

5. On a mission

There's no more accidents around the mansion anymore. Probably because you've locked yourself away since the ice skating incident. With the school on a break you didn't need to teach so all you did was stay in your room. Only leaving in the dead of night.

You just couldn't face the mansion anymore. You were embarrassed, upset, and heartbroken. Logan was supposed to be different. You wanted things to be different with him but apparently the universe decided you can have nothing good. It was only a matter of time before he saw the truth. His words repeat in your head over and over.

The anger, the fear. You caused that. Students and teachers alike would stop by your door but no one could get you out of your room. Sometimes you swear you hear the sound of his boots outside of your door. But he just stands there and then he leaves.

You can't cause any more problems if you stay here. Only issues for yourself and that's okay. Professor Xavier would pop into your head every now and then just to check up on you but this time what he needed was urgent.

The moment you walked through his office doors you could feel everyone's eyes on you. Especially a certain someone's who’s brooding in the corner of the room. Even with everyone here he's just overwhelming. You keep yours forward, not sparing a glance to him or to anyone.

"Thank you for joining us." Charles smiles warmly.

Apparently there's a mission and they need your help. Why they would send you out there you don't know. The targets had a fire mutant too and the best way to fight fire is with, well with more fire. The moment you stepped on the jet you could feel the nerves.

Everyone was worried something would go wrong with you around. Keeping your eyes glued to the ground you take a seat as far away from everyone as possible. Counting your fingers over and over as you wait to land. Someone makes there way over to you, their boots are oh so familiar.

"Hey." You look up to see Logan. He's holding onto the seat next to you for dear life.

"Don't worry I'm not gonna touch anything." You mumble as you try and somehow make yourself smaller.

"Listen I just wanted to talk." The plane jolts and Logan slams his fist against the wall. He freezes up again, fear creeping up onto his face. Just like on that frozen lake.

"We're hitting some turbulence. Logan you need to sit down." Scott commands.

Logan's lips turn into a growl but he sits down anyway. His hands clutching the armrests of the chair. Apart of you wants to go and comfort him but you would probably just make things worse. So you close your eyes and wait for it to be over. The turbulence calms and eventually the jet lands with everything and everyone unharmed.

The goal was to shutdown a group of mutant hunters and rescue their victims. The worst part was they had mutants on their side too. Good money you guessed. It shouldn't be too hard of a mission but knowing yourself anything could go wrong. You followed the team in, fighting with everything you had.

Logan had stuck by your side since you got here. Keeping his distance but always watching you. His super senses and metal claws made him their number one target. Suppress the Wolverine. They were no match for him though. But Logan's focus seemed to wane as they sent more people after him. A mutant who could make copies of himself did their best to confuse and take Logan down.

"Watch out!" You shout and Logan dodges another attack.

However you get shoved to the ground before you can say anything else. You send a blast of fire at your attacker but they wave it off. So this is the other mutant. The two of you become locked in combat. Fire meeting fire with no clear winner. It isn't until Jean’s voice shouts through your comms that you find the upper hand. They had found the kids and were bringing them back to the ship. It was a losing battle and you think the hunters were staring to realize that. Calling for a retreat.

You can't let them get away. If they get away then all of this is for nothing. They'll rebuild, they'll hurt more people. You notice a gas tank nearby by their vehicle. You were always good at making things explode. Usually on accident but fuck it, might as well try on purpose now.

"Get to safety and get out of here!" You run past the team as you chase after the retreating foes.

"Where the hell are you going?!" Logan calls as he helps a kid get onto the jet.

You ignore him, running as fast as you can. Just one big blast should get that thing exploding. God this was so stupid but its the only thing you can think of. You fucked up the door, you made a mess of the kitchen, you hurt Logan. All you do is ruin things. You're a Jinx and for once you can try and do something good. Even if it kills you.

As the car starts to drive past you channel all your power and launch it at the gas tank. For a second its like everything is in slow motion. You hear Logan roar, turning back only to see him running towards you. Suddenly everything gets really hot and then.

Nothing.

In the medbay

The first thing you feel when you can finally feel things again was how uncomfortable you were. An itchy blanket, itchy arms. Your back hurt and your head was killing you. When you opened your eyes all you see are the bandages wrapped around your arms and legs.

There were cards and flowers sitting on your bedside table and to your left was Logan. He's got his feet up on your bed and he was squished into a chair. His head bowed and his arms crossed. You try to sit up but start to wheeze. The heart monitor starts to beep wildly and Logan jolts awake.

"Sit back down." He pushes you back onto the bed and you try and breathe. After a little bit your heart rate steadies and Logan seems to calm down.

"What happened?" You ask and Logan clenches his jaw.

"You blew yourself up that's what fucking happened." Your memories were slowly getting pieced together.

"I blew up the gas tank. I wanted to stop them from escaping." You say as you recount what led you to the hospital bed.

"Well you stopped them and then almost killed yourself in the process. You had severe burns, a concussion, you were bleeding everywhere. I picked you up in my arms and you were coated in blood." He growls.

The words I'm sorry almost fall out of your mouth but you remember what Logan said that day on the lake. If you're being honest you aren't sorry either. You did what you thought you had to do.

"I'm a Jinx Logan. You said it yourself. I used my destruction to help this time." Logan winces when you remind him of his harsh words.

He wasn't in the right state of mind when he said them. Flashbacks of drowning, of the pain he went through. Being submerged in water and sinking were usually the scenes of his nightmares and for it to happen in real life. It was awful. But that doesn't change the fact he lashed out, he hurt you.

"I was wrong. I shouldn't have said that." Logan gently brushes the bandages on your arms. The scar from when he cut your arm in the lake peeks out from your bandages. He let his fear get the best of him in the water.

"I've hurt a lot of people, sometimes on purpose. Sometimes on accident.” His eyes never leaving your scar. “You’re not a Jinx. You’re perfect.”

"I still make a mess." Logan cups your face and studies a stitched up wound on your forehead.

God when that gas tank exploded. Even he was blown back by the force. He ran to your still body. Ash and pieces of metal were scattered across the field. You're lucky you didn't get fucking impaled. Your body was limp. Dirt and blood caked your face so much that he couldn't tell where you were hurt.

He carried you back to the jet, your blood staining his suit as he laid you down. He listened for your heartbeat for a second he swore it stopped. The longest second of his life as he waited to hear that soft beating.

"Why are you still here?" You just don't understand. How he can be sitting here after everything you've done. All the problems you caused.

"A little mess isn't gonna scare me sweetheart, I like your mess. I like you." He tilts your chin up and kisses you. You're taken by surprise but it's certainly welcome as your eyes flutter closed.

The heart rate monitor starts to beep faster as Logan leans over you. Your fingers rake through his hair as you pull him closer. Logan's grip tightens on the hospital bed railing. He's too lost in the taste of your lips to notice. You tug on his hair and his claws shoot out, cutting one of your IV wires.

A loud beeping blares through the room as Logan jumps back from you. You cover your mouth and laugh. Not even in your sweetest moments can you catch a break. Logan sheaths his claws and shakes his head in disbelief, joining in your laughter.

Jean rushes in with a panicked look on your face. It morphs into confusion when she sees the two of you laughing as your IV drips to the ground. She quickly fixes your IV and gives both of you a scolding for not letting anyone know you were awake.

"Keep your hands and claws to yourself. I'll be back later Jinx." She eyes Logan who puts his hands up. Smirking at you as she leaves.

"You know we could call you something else." Logan suggests. You think for a while before shaking your head.

"I think I like it." It reminds you of your faults yes but this has something that's followed you for the longest time.

You supposedly bring bad luck but you can try and counteract it every day by doing something nice. Plus maybe with Logan your luck might turn around. Maybe. As long as you steer clear of any lakes.

"Alright, but I think sweetheart has a nice ring to it." He says with a grin.

"Oh you want everyone to call me sweetheart?" You tease. Logan leans over and kisses you again.

"No. Only I get to call you that." Bad luck you may bring but Logan doesn't care.

You're a Jinx but you're his jinx and he loves every part of you. The good and the bad. So what's a little bad luck? If it means he gets to be yours then he'd happily be your lucky charm for the rest of your lives.

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett angst #logan howlett fluff

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goldsbitch · 2 months ago

Text

That one night stranded

There is good sex...and then there is good sex. And when you know and love someone, it's very easy to tell when they fall into an anxiety trap and try to fuck it out.

Lando is determined to have good sex only for the rest of his life.

Or - Lando and Y/N get stranded in between flights. accidental 7k epilogue p.2 to That one Christmas flight, but can be read as a stand-alone

warning: angst, shit family, smut, p in v, oral, minors DNI, typos, couple therapists - please leave, i'm not ready for your judgement

There were two very different text message chains happening in the hotel lobby, where the young couple stood, waiting for the receptionist who was coding they key card.

Lando's phone was bursting up with family photos, taken the day before. Lots of smiley faces, tables overflowing with food and pictures blurred up, because the person taking the photo was most likely laughing too hard to stay still. And even better - most of the messages were words of praise his family had for his no-so-new girlfriend. He knew well enough his family was proud of him nevertheless. Somehow, bringing home someone who fit in right easily, laughed at the same jokes and earned a sincere approval, filled up a hole he had no idea was present in his heart.

This one night they'd "earned" by the delayed flight felt like a reward. They'd done great together. Alone time was a rare luxury, especially when it was unexpected and not planned out for weeks. He glanced over to her, glued to her phone in a similar way that he was. Only difference being the furrowed brows.

The other text chain was Y/N and her mother. Right when the reality sank in - the fact that no plane would be able to fly to Japan with these weather conditions - her heart did too. She'd somehow hoped it would be different. That her mother would save the snarky comments. Yet she found a way to make this all seem like Y/N's fault.

You should have taken an earlier flight.

She knew it was irrational. But yes, if they had opted for the earlier flight, they'd be in the air by now. Funny, how only parents know the exact formula to make one’s brain switch off the rational part. It was the hidden undertone in the text messages. Her mom would usually save those for phone calls. The last thing Y/N wanted to do at the moment. You're too reckless. Not organized enough. Being late is your fault. Bad planning. Do you even care about seeing me? I took a day off from work to spend time with you. Are you sure about bringing the racer boy over here?

Guilt filled up her stomach and her eyes were glued to the phone, hoping for more letters to appear. Something along the lines like "have a safe flight". Or "I'm looking forward to finally meeting Lando". Words she knew would never appear. She felt her boyfriend's arm embrace her as he exchanged few final words with the receptionist. The specific info got lost on her, but the tone spoke on it's own. Even a stranger could pick up on his unmasked joy and comfort. He didn't mind they were stranded for few hours. She wished for that kind of peace of mind. His family had been incredibly lovely to her. Accepted her the way she was and gave her enough space to express herself. She was ready for "double checking" or some sort of acceptance tests. Expected to have to prove herself to them more. None of that came. Part of her was secretly infuriated by that. There was no way in hell Lando would get the same treatment. Y/N wished she could provide that comfort for him too. It resembled the same feeling she had when he came to her apartment for the first time and she forgot to put away all the mugs overflowing the nightstand. Like something that was her responsibility to fix, clean up before he even knew this was a thing.

"Look at me, honey," he said in the elevator, his finger pulling her chin up. His eyes scanned her with a look she grew to love. Pure, unfiltered adoration. "Feels like we got gifted a night only for ourselves. I can't think of anything better to receive." She smiled as best as she could, trying to get on his level of ease. But one thought sat in her brain, unwilling to make space for anything else. Today's bliss for tomorrow's misery.

"You're right, as always," she replied, trying to convince herself maybe more than him. The kiss she gave him afterwards was to divert his attention from looking at her, because she knew from experience, he'd soon see right through her.

"Have you texted your mom that we'll be late?" he asked, unaware of her bubbling anxiety.

"Yeah, yeah," she mumbled, trying to dismiss the situation.

Who cares that mom thinks he's just a reckless celebrity. Would an immature asshole who "can't possibly care about me in the longterm" be say things like that? It was pure fire running through her veins. Maybe it really was a gift, these few hours they got extra. The reality was that even if they'd arrived on time, fresh and dressed up as a cookie cutter loved up couple, her mom would still find something wrong to drill about later. Screw that. Last few moments of solitude.

She was standing in a hotel room bathroom, looking into the mirror, trying to calm herself down.

This worked perfectly into Lando's favor, him still being completely high on the good Christmas vibes. The minute she excused herself, he got on the phone with the hotel concierge and offered to throw any amount of money at them if they'd manage to follow up on his impromptu request. By some miracle, the trail with cold champagne, strawberries and few roses arrived before she returned from the bathroom. When his lovely girlfriend entered the room again, he greeted her with a dramatic spin, rose in one, a tall glass in the other hand. His interpretation of an angelic smile plastered on his face. The plan of catching her off guard worked. She stood there for a moment, taking the scenery in.

"Lando..." she said, speechless enough to muster anything more.

He winked at her and stepped closer. "It is technically our anniversary..." he said, like an open invitation.

Y/N stared at the loved up guy standing in front of her. Mother's voice still ringing in her head. All composure she managed to gain by staring at herself in the mirror gone in a second. How can anyone, ever and anywhere think that Lando, her Lando, is anything but a perfect boyfriend. How can her mother feed her with words like reckless, immature, wild and careless...without ever even meeting him in person. Her phone dinged with the sound a text message and she just knew it was her mom again. She didn't even bother looking at the notification.

"You're perfect, you know that?" she blurbed slowly. Once again, as if more to herself than to him.

His smile grew wider. "I try my best," he noted with a tone that could only be described as playful.

"Many people forget anniversaries..."

"To be fair, it is easier if it's pinned to annoyingly recognized holiday..." he joked and handed her the glass. "Do not ask me when we actually got together, because I don't think there is enough champagne around here for me to apologize for not knowing that date."

She smirked and accepted the glass.

"You did kind of just admit that yourself, you know..."

"I know, but, you didn't ask, so it doesn't count."

He knew her well enough to know that she was about to ask exactly that just to tease him, so interrupted her before she had a chance to even breathe in.

"Toast! To us! To the best outcome a desperate secret meeting at Honda could ever have!"

Giving up on teasing him, she clinked her glass with his. "To the Christmas champagne tradition."

He leaned in and kissed her before tasting the champagne. If it weren't for the symbolic gesture, he'd order anything else. Champagne had a weird undertone of podiums and that was something he hated to get reminded of during off season. But that was not something he needed to tell her.

She gulped the whole glass, happy have something to take the edge off.

"How bizarre, we managed to make it here," she remarked, courage building up.

"Wouldn't have it any other way, honey."

That's it. He was being the ultimate boyfriend, while she was there, barely participating. No more of that. She grabbed the glass from his hands and downed the liquid he barely touched anyway. Surprised Lando only raised his eyebrows and watched her put both of their glasses away.

"Bed. Now," she ordered him, changing the tone of the conversation.

Fascination overruled Lando's facial expression and he obeyed, without a single word. Usually, he was the more dominant one in their sex life. He couldn't help himself, forever horny teenager. But, sometimes, out of nowhere, she whipped up her bossy side. He often fantasized about that when he was alone, racing around the world.

She waited for him to absentmindedly kick his shoes to the corner only to sit at the edge of the bed. Shook her head and nodded toward the pillow. He obeyed and pushed himself further to the back. His eyes were literally inviting her, encouraging her to continue.

With full determination, she took her shirt off, following by swiftly removing her bra. Then she climbed over to him, never breaking eye contact.

Lando wanted to say something, anything, but he was worried that would somehow break the spell. He followed her every move, tuning in. They had spent few days in the family circus and they were about to enter another one. It's been the longest they'd gotten without sex while being in the same timezone. Even though he was not demanding or expecting anything, he was craving it like a starved man.

She wanted to feel hot. Determined to prove that she is a good girlfriend. Swung her leg over his, practically sitting on him. Their lips crashed together in a messy kiss, tongues fighting for dominance. Lando sighed when she parted them. But she was on a mission now. Knowing well enough Lando was a boobs man, she pulled his face towards her nipple and he didn't think twice about what to do next. She watched him suck and pure physical relief washed over her. All will be well soon.

She grabbed him over his jeans, pleased to find that he was already getting hard. Abandoning the kiss, she moved over to gain access to his crotch. Locked eyes with him while opening his zipper, almost violently.

"Take this off," she ordered and boy, did he do as he was told.

The air was heavy with anticipation on both parties.

With thick determination, she knelt over and took him into her mouth. He grew in her instantly, reaching full erection almost immediately.

Wasting no time, she started to move, up and down and suck him off. One hand called over to help at the bottom of his shaft, the other used as a support for her to lean on. She quickly got lost in the rhythm and continued, almost like someone dead set on completing a task. She had to prove herself. He was a great boyfriend and she needed to be the best girl he had. Because tomorrow, only ugly judgemental looks from her mother would await. No warm family welcome, this bliss they lived in for the past few days would be long gone. She could almost see it already happening, Lando desperately trying to impress her mother and her just dismissing him, because she had already made up her mind about him.

But he was perfect and Y/N was head-over-heels in love. With her eyes closed, she kept on moving, barely reaching for breath, ignoring the growing pain in her back, because the pit of despair growing in her stomach was louder anyway. It was all worth it for making her lover happy. Because who knows how it will all look tomorrow. If she could back down from the trip, she would. Her mom does not deserve to criticize someone so perfect like Lando.

Out of nowhere, felt his hand reaching over to her shoulder, somewhat bringing her back to Earth.

"Y/N," he moaned, with an unusual undertone. She took it as a sign to speed up her movements.

"Stop," he continued instantly. She froze, not quite sure what had happened.

"Ok, ugh," he pulled away unwillingly. "I can't believe I'm about to interrupt...Whatever amazing thing is happening right now."

She swallowed her own saliva. Got up a bit, slightly mortified. Why did he stop her. What has she done wrong? He never complained before? That's it - this connected with the treatment her mother had prepared instead of Christmas dinner would be the final straw ending their lovey-dovey period. Her thoughts were tripping one over another, making up an incoherent mess.

Once again, he pulled up his finger and arched her chin up.

"Is everything alright?"

Silence followed. He gave her a questioning, puzzled look.

"I thought you liked my blow jobs," she said with a stern look stripped of any emotion.

"Believe me, I do," he said with a heavy sigh. He couldn't believe himself, never expected himself to pause a perfect blow. "But something feels off about you."

She failed. She failed at going with Lando's flow and ruined what was suppose to be a nice romantic holiday evening. Giving up, she threw herself on her back, lying 90 degrees next to him, eyes glued to the ceiling. If they hadn't been so comfortable with each other, she'd feel very small, lying there like that, him with his dick out and her topless.

Lando had hoped his intuition was wrong. But sadly, he recognized the signs correctly. Without knowing this emotion had pained her ever since the plane got delayed, he felt his own anxiety pile up. Only years of mental preparation for his overly demanding job had helped him to avoid jumping into conclusions too quickly. Even though, deep down, he was terrified that her sudden mood change was due to the fact she didn't love him anymore. It was always the first thing he thought about, no matter how much he tried to work on it. But - years of mental training - he was going to cash that in.

He watched her, hoping she'd look back at him. When she didn't, he reached his fingertips towards hers. Her own hand responded instantly and their fingers tangled together.

"What happened...Did I do something wrong?" he opened with, reaching for any clues.

She kept her stare up the ceiling and chuckled. How cute it was, finding him so unaware.

"No. Lando, you're amazing. Annoyingly so, lately."

He took that as an invitation and shifted his body over so that they shared the same angle and joined her at the "staring at the ceiling" activity.

"I hope that is not the problem - I have hard time not being like that," he joked, hoping it would diffuse the tension a bit. The Lando she met a year ago would probably run away in a situation like this. Or maybe even ignored the obvious distress of his sex partner and let he blow him to his release. But not the Lando of today.

Her lips curled into a small smile.

"Oh, if only all of us were like you," she couldn't help but comment sarcastically.

"You know that you're more than perfect to me, right?" There was no lightness to be detected in his tone. She shifted, a wave of uncomfortableness washing her over.

I may be, but not my family.

"Yes, but I need you to know...I need you to understand, that I truly love you and I am totally mesmerized by you. To me, you are perfect. Even when you irritate me to heavens," she admited, making sure to highlight the words of praise. Scared that if she didn't build enough foundation today, there will be nothing to stand on once the challenge comes tomorrow. She'd tried to warm him about the meeting, but it always seemed to go through his ears.

It was like she was speaking in riddles. "Why do you need me to understand that now?" he asked, eyes now fully glued at his girlfriend, searching for some clues.

She felt his eyes on her and out of nowhere felt very naked. "Because...." ...Words were hard.

"Go on, I'm not backing away from this," Lando insisted, trying to get them both on the same page.

A loud sigh. "We had such a great time with your family..."

It was like she was speaking in a language he was not yet fluent in. "Don't divert the conversation," he hissed, eyes on her like she was some sort of target.

"I'm not!" she gasped, almost offended.

Lando was still not following. "My family is basically in love with you, I have messages if you need proof."

"Yeah. And that's the problem," Y/N smirked bitterly.

He leaned closer to her. "I think we should look up a definition of the word problem..." he joked.

She was still burning holes in the ceiling with her look. "We missed the flight. It's another bullet to my mother’s gun." Stupid, stupid mistake.

"Who is she planning on shooting?" Lando asked softly.

"Us, I'm afraid." She finally met his look and the only emotion he was able to read in her eyes was concern.

If this relationship had taught Lando anything, it was that the hard way is sometimes the only way. So, he finally allowed himself to ask the one thing that had been on his mind for a while now. "Does she not like me?"

Deep down he was suspecting this might be one of the reasons why his girlfriend is acting sketchy. He just hoped it was something more trivial. "She's never met you," she whispered, as if she was defending him for something he hadn't yet committed. So far, there had been only one moment when her mom Facetimed her when he was right next to her. One greeting, awkward wave and a smile that was not reciprocated. He made up some excuse to leave them alone promptly after that, feeling like he was intruding on a private conversation.

"I wondered when you were going to tell me that," he remarked, ready to go full on. He was just now allowing the thought that his lover's parent might have been feeding her bitter doubts for some time now enter his brain.

The obvious change of Lando's expression made her stomach turn, kind of like drinking milk that's gone off does. But, they'd vowed to be fully honest with each other after their first big fight. Deep breath. "She um...It's not like you can say she is exactly on board with all of this,“ she gestured between them.

And there it was. The confirmation he feared. He did his best to remain as calm as possible. "Don't worry, I figured, you sort of hinted at that few times before. And I'm planning on charming the hell out of her. After all, you do share genes. Some of my tricks gotta work on her." It was more of a plea, lacking his general playful confidence. When she studied his look, it reminded her of the times when he was hiding his real emotions in front of hungry reporters.

He told her once he wanted her to be blunt, rather than deceptive in difficult times. The words started to leave her mouth without much of a filter. "But, what if it does not work. She has this habit of making her mind up before I have any chance to affect it."

Somehow, the fact she voiced it, made it easier for him to react. "Honey, don't take this the wrong way. But, I only care about your opinion. It would be great to have your mom on our side...However, I'd like to believe it's not the base of our relationship."

"No, it's not," she said quickly, silently hoping it was going to be enough for them to survive this challenge.

"So, tell me. What does she think about me?" he asked, suddenly craving to know it all.

She bit her lip. "Lando, don't make me say things like that."

Wow. That bad. "I'm used to getting hate from thousands of people who don't know me. I can cope. The more specifics I know, the better I can prepare...Come on, spill it," he countered, trying to convince her that he can handle it. However, it wasn't like he himself was completely sure of that. Her face was expressionless and he nodded to confirm it nonverbally.

"She thinks you're reckless," she spoke slowly, skipping few heartbeats. She was used to being on the other side, praising Lando when he doubted himself. This place, where she found herself at, was not one she liked.

He analysed it for a moment. "Well, I do get into a car every week to purposefully drive it as fast as possible, so I can she from which angle she might be coming from. Nothing new."

"You're a party boy," she shot back faster than she could think.

And he shot right back at her. "You're a party girl, but I assume your mom has no idea, huh."

"No...," she admitted. For some reason, this calmed her down a bit. She finally took another breath.

"What else," Lando's stared at her, following his internal feeling they hadn't arrived to the end yet.

No point in holding back now, she figured. There was a weird ball of tension in her chest, almost asking daring her to push him to the limit. "She googled you. A lot. And she made sure to tell me names of all your model exes. Then proceeded to tell me I look nothing like that," Y/N deadpanned.

Lando knew this was probably the one thing that stung her the most. But, the thought of someone she held so dearly voicing it her was making him extremely angry. "That's just fucked up-"

She continued, before he had any chance to react more.

"And, she thinks you'll affect my school. That the lifestyle around you is shallow and only attracts bonehead people."

Now, this was finally getting to Lando. Of course, he could not let Y/N know that, not in this moment.

"Do you think that too?" he asked, because he craved to know the truth. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, when the world around felt silent and his mind had time to roam freely, he found himself thinking about this. He never really studied and was never going to. His life was based on different approach. He loved it. But that didn't stop him from feeling a bit inferior from time to time.

He expected anything, but a laugh. For a moment he figured she was mocking him. Only once she reached to touch his face he realized just how still and stiff he became throuout out their conversation.

"I think it's shallow and bonehead to assume that. I've met some amazing people in your team, smart people who have dedicated their lives into the sport I'd grown to love while watching get so passionate about it."

There was an unspoken question hanging in the air. Lando dared not to say it outloud.

"And, no. I don't think you deserve to be called any of those words. Only when you're looking in the mirror, because that smug face deserves to be punched one day."

He chuckled. It would take him few moment to truly let her words sink in. "You didn't seem to think that one time in Abu Dhabi." That time when he fucked over a bathroom sink and made sure that she watched them the whole time. Lando watched with joy as her face started getting some color again. He couldn't fight his urge to get closer to his partner, break the tension even further. So, he rolled over to bury his nose in her neck. It was almost automatic at this point. None of his previous girlfriends were this understanding of his overly touchy needs. Words were important, but they grew more on meaning when he could feel her skin, explore her light shiver, watch how her body reacted. When he felt her pushing towards his touch, he swung his arm over her, with the notion of providing some heat to her naked chest.

A more comfortable silence fell upon the hotel room. Both of them lost in their own thoughts. Lando was taking in all of the newly found information. It was a heavy burden, not because of the substance, but because it was coming from someone Y/N held dearly. It was hard not to feel a little injustice of it all. But more than that, he was grateful that she was able to avoid internalizing all of that what was fed to her from her mom. He approached all of this as he would any strategy meeting before a difficult race. Find the strengths, capitalize on them and try to minimize the advantage "the opponent" might have. But truth be told, he'd rather not have to have this sort of competition.

"Thank you," he whispered into the crease of her neck. "Thank you for not giving into it all." He hoped, prayed, that was he as saying was true. It was not just about her mom. It was the press, some of the overbearing fans and anyone who dared to challenge them without having any real insight in their relationship. "I know it must be really hard and not exactly what you might have signed up for."

What did I sign up for?

She reached over to embrace him, mindlessly drawing circles on his back. The pit inside her stomach was growing smaller. Without really intending to, signed up for a partnership, exciting love affair that got out of hand. Anyone who came before him was redundant. He outshined everyone.

"I’m pretty sure I must have bribed faith in my past life to have you thrown in my life."

"Aren’t you my little smart poetic girl," he murmured approvingly and started to cover her skin with kisses. Few moments flew by. "We could order some food, put on the show you like and drift away. How does that sound?"

She understood his intention. It had been a long day and another one was coming. Her emotions were clashing from one end to another and as much as she tried to hide it all, Lando was proving to be hard to fool. And no - she did not want to chill in. Burning all of it out sounded more fun. To be held for a moment, stuck in the timelessness only lightheaded orgasm created.

He was still trailing her neck with small pecks, arm locking her in. The untamed curls almost tickling like small feathers. Everything was heightened, as if his skin was loudly calling her in. His words of initiating a calm wind down not matching his action.

"Please, no more of this PG fun. It’s been days."

He stopped all of his movements. "Well then, pray tell, what do you have on mind?"

The next words flew out of her mouth before she could filter them. "Are you in the mood to fuck me?"

"Am I in the mood to fuck you," he repeated, in his signature sarcasm dripping style. He was having trouble processing how his sexual partner could ever arrive to this question. Unsure whether to address her clumsy dirty talk first instead of the absurdity of the question, he arrived at a simple "Charming…". Of course he was in the mood. Always, anytime and quite literally anywhere.

"Well it's just, it's been quite a tense talk..." she hinted back carefully. To her surprise, his face went into smirk mode.

"I will ask you the same thing next time you're hyperventilating about school and you come in begging for stress release," he jested, once again making her eyebrows shooting up.

"I am never begging," she defended, unwilling to give into his narrative.

And then he shot back, with his signature you-don’t-have-any-chance-to-resist look. "I said what I said."

Blood ran boiling in her veins. If oil had been in such abundance as his audacity, the world would be able to run cars freely for centuries. "Tell me one example of me begging for sex with you."

Lando turned his head slowly. Oh. Oh, it was on.

Very quickly she realized her own mistake. She ran into that one like a fool. "No, Lando, don't-"

"You know, it has been indeed quite a long day, I think I'm gonna hop in the shower and get a healthy dose of beauty sleep," he declared dramatically, sat up and removed his t-shirt. She rolled her eyes as high as humanly possible. No way would follow through with this premise. "Fine, Lando. I’ll be here, munching on strawberries, naked and horny, all by myself," she tried to tease and leaned over to grab one of the bright red fruits from the trail. Eyes locked in with him as she shamelessly sucked on it. There was a glitch and a twinkle in his look. Almost got her thinking she had this one in the bag. He stepped closer, noses almost touching as he whispered: "Have fun, honey," gave her a little peck on the cheeks while having the nerve to grab her exposed breast. His tone was teasing, daring her to dare a little more. It was annoying in a typical Lando fashion.

"Lando, you gotta be kidding me right now," she sighed, impatience getting the better of her.

"Few magic words and you get exactly what you want from your reckless racer fuck boy,“ he mocked everyone who ever doubted them. "Oh, sorry, forgot to add, very good at taking your edge off. Am I right?"

His presence was more intoxicating than usual. As if he radiated some hormones making her feral. All the complicated emotions leaving the conversation one by one. Nothing but the two of them left in the room. His hot breath on her cheek, fingers circling over her nipple and his body heat reminding her of each time she wrapped her arms around him as he pushed into her.

"Yes, that you are," she responded mindlessly and searched for his lips with her own. He allowed her a small peck, like a chef would at a tasting menu. Enough to hook, but not enough to fill up. And with that thought in mind he broke their kiss. "Come on, say it. I want to hear it."

Few moments of silence, her breathing heavy and his almost undetectable. Two ego’s fighting a battle so pointless it was almost amusing. She couldn’t just give in like that, no matter how dizzy her head was getting.

"Fine by me, honey. Your choice," he danced away, letting her hanging. There was something infuriating about how nonchalantly and elegantly he smiled, knowing well enough her was winning this battle. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes as to prevent herself from watching his tone back.

This. This was her Lando. Always pushing her into a direction she had no idea she wanted or needed to go. Never the same thing twice, somehow, he always dug up something new.

She sat on the bed, dumbfounded, playful anger replacing all the anxiety she had felt just moments ago. Was this his plan all along, or did he just have a natural talent at steering her mood into a place where she’d happily go and give into anything he’d suggest her to do?

He was grinning all the way coming to the shower. It was a statement, a game and something to ease the tension. Once the water started, he’d allowed himself do a light check-in with his own feelings. It wasn’t easy to hear all those things. In fact, some of them hit a little close to home. Lando made sure to separate what he had heard from Y/N as a person. She wasn’t the author of these thoughts. Someone else was. A person who he had not yet even met. There wasn’t a single cell in him that would doubt that everything she stared had been said by her mother at some point.

He closed his eyes and aimed his face directly under the shower head. Images of him and Y/N all coupled up at his family house started to come in, like a set of developed photos. So natural, calming and most of all - honest. Comfort memories he knew he’d be reaching for once the new season and it’s challenges catch up, when the distance and loneliness hit. But at that moment, there she was, right next door and probably still a bit fired up by his uncharacteristic postponing of sex. His hand slid over to his crotch, squeezing himself casually and switching up the mental images to less family-friendly moments. He was sort of expecting her to come and join him in the shower. But no, of course not. Not when he set her up like that. They were all too similar for their own good.

When he stepped out of the bathroom, towel purposefully hanging dangerously low, he couldn’t stop himself from simpering. Once he got a look at her, sitting under the covers, phone in her hand and too stingy to pass him more than two looks. But, she did come for the second one and that betrayed her, aiming directly to where his tower barely covered his waist.

To prove his point, he shuffled his wet hair, sudden movement making her glance once again. It felt really addictive to know he was the centre of her attention, despite how much she tried to hide it.

Smugness and water dripping from him, he landed shamelessly on the bed, towel giving up on trying to participate. Her reaction was to frown, making her pet peeve of people getting into the bed wet known, once again. Something Lando became aware very early on. He used this information only when the situation required it. No words were said, as he leaned over her, making sure to leave some remaining water drops on her, and grabbed a moisturizer.

Then he proceeded to slowly plump it and rub it on his body. The unreasonably loud sounds of him doing that were cutting the silence of the room like a knife.

His partner sitting next to him hummed quietly. "Whatever this is, it’s not working."

He replied, elegant as ever. "I don’t know what you’re insinuating." He pretended to be as focused on his activity, the same way as he did when doing PR bullshit. "Ah, honey. Would you be so kind and help me reach to my back?" Lando asked overly nicely. Y/N watched him, almost admiring just how bad his acting skills were and how he proceeded with his act without any remorse. He was reaching over to his back, unable to do so, and making it look like the biggest tragedy human kind has ever experienced. And with puppy eyes, he decided to go for a low blow.

"Please, baby," he said in a tone so insincere it wouldn’t fool a child. This was yet another provocation.

"You know it irks me when you’re wet in the bed."

He let out a chuckle. She was so bad at keeping herself in check. It was adorable. She just sat there, pretending to be scrolling Instagram, little lines around her eyes forming from how tense her eyebrows frowned. "I do. And we seriously have to get your accidental innuendos under control. Can’t have you walking in public saying these things." He wiggled the moisturizer in front of her face.

Finally, she snapped. "You are the most annoying and immature guy I’ve ever met. You’re impossible." Lando looked at her, like one would at an angry puppy that’s trying to jump a little too high.

"One would almost say a miracle, huh."

Once again, he shook his bottle of moisturizer. Having had enough, she snatched it from his hands and put it back on the nightstand. "It’s a miracle I haven’t killed you yet."

Without missing a beat, he shot back. "And how will we celebrate?"

She let out a sigh so loud the people in the next room must have heard it. Sitting there, not knowing what do with her hands anymore. He wished they were pulling his hair.

"Are you seriously gonna make me say it."

He simply nodded, arching himself up. If her mind had been clouded before, it was now full on can't-see-further-than-my-nose type of situation.

He leaned over even closer, getting up all over in her personal space. As if that was even a thing anymore.

Somehow, for some reason he would have yet unpack, his heart was beating like crazy. Say it.

Accepting that he won what ever this was, she gulped and finally whispered. "Please."

He gave her a questioning look, as if he didn’t hear her. "Hm? Sorry?"

Still debating whether she should smack him or not, she repeated herself. "Please."

"What, do you want me to put the cream on you too? Hydration is important for the skin,“ he teased, enjoying himself immensely.

"Lando."

"Y/N."

If he were to be completely honest, he was extremely proud of himself to withholding this long. Also, not sure how longer he could go on, given the fact his erection has entered the chat.

To make it more complicated, she sat up and put her mouth almost onto his. He could smell her aroused energy. Almost taste her on his mouth. And that as even before she licked his lips lightly with her tongue.

"Say it," he mumbled, unable to make it not sound like a plea.

It was different than what they’d usually do. Many couples dabbled in talking during sex, they never really did. Then something hit her. Like a secret wavelength he was sending her way. Maybe he needed her to talk today. So, finally, she broke in.

"Lando, please, fuck me.“

All those times, he waited for the five red lights to go out only for him to smash the pedal, paid off. Like opening windows in a stale room, he let the fresh air in. Ripped the duvet covering her off, he grabbed her legs to pull her into a laying down position, not even giving her time to gasp. His moves were quick and oh-so-sure of himself.

"Tell me what you need, love,“ he ordered, while he traced the line of her neck with his tongue.

He wasn’t certain if she was finding the idea of talking as hot as he did. But he sure as hell hoped. It wasn’t like he needed any guidance at that point. Had every inch of her body mapped out already. But he longed to hear it from her mouth. Towering over her, he nibbled on her neck, one hand running through her hair and the other squeezing her hips, keeping her exactly where he wanted her.

He noticed she stopped her breathing and locked him with her arms, holding on for dear life.

"You, I need you, Lando,“ she let out, suddenly all uncertain and shy. It was the vulnerability in her tone that got him. He moved his lips a little lower, so that he could leave a mark on her collarbone, without fearing she’d regret it tomorrow.

His body was moving on its own. Brushing on her upper thigh, opening her legs up and positioning himself between her. All the blood left his brain.

"I want you to touch me. I want to walk with marks made from you in public, a secret only you will know.“

He was only now realizing how good of a fuel this was for him. Lightheaded, he folded her legs and pushed them to her stomach, making as small as possible. So that she would be completely in his control.

To grand her wished, he left one mark just below he collarbone and moved to leave a second one on her breast. She let out a heavy breath.

"Lando, please. I need you inside.“

He was almost getting too dizzy not to comply immediately. His erection throbbing into her leg.

Then, out of nowhere, he flipped them both.

"Get over me, baby,“ he hummed and positioned himself on his back. She gave him a questioning look and knelt above his dick.

But he shook his head and grabbed her hips once again. "Up here.“

His hungry look must have encouraged her, so she moved until he stopped her, ending up directly above his mouth. "Sit down.“

His statement was followed by his strong hands literally pushing her down on his mouth.

Eyes finally locked again, he smirked for the last time, before he buried his mouth in her.

Lando wished he knew what he looked like from her perspective. Squished between her, licking and sucking, letting her move in the exact way how she wished. He felt her legs tense up with each move his tongue made. This all got even more intense when he squeezed her nipple between his fingers.

He twirled his tongue through her folds, circled around the clit, which had her melt.

"More,“ she demanded and positioned herself so that he could only access.

Saliva and her juices were mixing in his mouth, the smell of her arousal hitting his nose and making him high.

He upped his pace and went for the moves he already knew from the past would work. Watching her crumble, barely being able to keep herself up, to the point where she had to balance herself against the wall, was probably becoming his definition of heaven. His tongue moved in a fixed rhythm, exploring every possible place she had to offer.

"Lando..." she moaned, completely lost due to the moves his tongue was making.

He felt the urge to stop and take a breath, because judging by the slight movements of her thighs, she was getting close.

And only moments later, her first release came. Wetter than ever, she held on dearly and with one high pitched sigh, she collapsed almost completely. He had to stop her from crushing his face.

"Sorry," she let out mindlessly, unable to give him more reaction.

Amused, he helped her back down and rolled her over on her back.

Wasting no time, Lando pushed two fingers in her immediately, not giving her any time to calm down or rest.

Wondering in which dimension he managed to send her off to, he watched, as she squeezed her eyes shut with every little twist her made. As her moans target to get intense again, he shut her off with a kiss. His tongue matching the movements of his fingers. He waited patiently, before he felt like she was getting lost in the same haze as bare minutes ago, only to remove his fingers and stop kissing her out of a sudden.

Confusion and mild anger washed over her.

"What-"

"I can’t hear you, baby," he teased and hovered his wet fingers above her mouth. "What was it that you wanted from me? Must have slipped my mind."

The look of pure desperation she gave him was the hottest shit he’d ever seen.

"Lando…"

"Let’s made a deal, sunshine," he proclaimed and slowly shoved his wet fingers into her mouth. Like the good girl she was, she sucked on them without hesitation. „I’ll stop anything we’re doing, the moment you shut up. Ok?“

They were so close to each other with every possible body part. But it was not enough. It would never be enough. She nodded and he pulled his fingers out, slowly.

"Deal, Norris."

A lightning shot through his body and nearly split him in half. She never used his last name before, ever. Why was that, out of all the things, doing it for him. She must have picked up on his momentary relapse and gained more confidence with that. "Stop fucking around, I want you inside. Now.“

He was already almost touching her entrance with his dick. Eye locked, he reached for her hand and intertwined their fingers.

"Please,“ she said, loud and proud, making it sound like a demand.

When he finally pushed into her, it was like anything else stopped existing. He belonged there and nothing else mattered.

"Oh my God, yes,“ she whined, keeping up at her promise. "This is the best shit ever.“

Lando’s autopilot kicked in as the last braincell was truly gone. He started to move in a steady beat, finding it incredibly hard to keep himself from literally pounding into her immediately.

„Faster,“ she encouraged as she held his shoulder with her other hand, to help her find balance.

Lando was lost, in the best way possible. In her body, in his mind, in the fact that having sex was something completely different when you absolutely adored the person you’d be lying on top of. The built up energy finally finding its release, after days of dancing around. With each thrust, he lost touch with reality more. Only pure pleasure and reminiscence of her voice finding their way in.

"Oh, God, baby." "Yes." "I need you." "It’s only you." "Shit, you’re so good."

Lando figured a long time ago that, for the lack of better comparison, their bodies must have been made for each other. Different shapes fitting perfectly into each other. They shared their sense of rhythm. It was never too short or too long. She scratched the itch before he got the chance to mention he had one. Lando felt almost sad for anyone who did not get to experience that.

Somehow, their sex got better every time.

He missed when she came for the second time, as he was too lost in his own release. His thrusts got more uneven, his body completely arched and then finally - like the slap in the face, pure bliss washed over him. He felt it in what seemed like every muscle, every strain of hair and in every inch of his lower stomach, spreading like nice hot drink in the middle of winter. All was good. There were no problems, only good things. She was perfect.

He had a hard time recalling what were the exact words they’d share right after he came. The haze started to clear few moments after, when he found himself next to her, puddle of his cum in the middle of her stomach, noses touching each other and light kisses being left like little presents.

As the heavy breaths grew lighter, he returned back to Earth.

"All good, baby?“ he asked, the sweetness in his tone coming naturally. Searched for any sign of discomfort in her face. He had hoped that she got exactly the kind of release she deserved.

And many signs pointed towards that. The smile of her disbelief, red flushed face, sensitive skin that reacted to each light touch as if it was a strong grip.

"I, um. Yes. More than good. Thank you.“ Most people would barely understand with they way she mumbled.

He chuckled. "You don’t have to thank me, ever.“

"I was taught that after every please comes a thank you, so pick you battle. All or nothing," she shot back, teasing as ever.

He didn't have to think much before replying. "Well, all of that then.“

She nudged him with her nose. "You seemed to enjoy me begging. Though begging might be a strong word. I would never do that."

Even though she said it in a light tone, he knew it was intended seriously. "Maybe I just really needed to hear it today. That you want me. Need me.“

"What I love about this all is that we need each other. Both for different reasons, but that just makes it work even more.“

There was comfort in her answer. A realization, an answer to a question they never asked before.

"I’ll be there for you tomorrow. We’ll crush it, as a team.“

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district4loading · 1 month ago

Text

Under My Spell

Kiss of Life Belle x Male Reader

5K Words

Content Warning: smut, hypnosis, use of handcuffs, praise, a little bit of degrading

Minors DNI

A/N: I got the request to do this almost a month ago but back then I was really busy and I had other requests to get to first. Now that my writers block is partially gone, I'm ready to write and work on everything else I've been requested. This was supposed to come out two days ago but I ended up getting sick and I couldn't finish it lmao.

This is my first time writing something like this, I know I probably got some aspects of it wrong so just vibe yeah? Hope you guys enjoy this one!!

The request: "would you be open to writing a smut about hypnosis? like where the reader and idol decide to try out hypnosis?"

Maybe hypnosis is real

You're laying in bed when she brings it up.

She just came back from the nail salon, her purse slides off of her arm and onto the dresser when she asks you "Babe, what's the kinkiest thing you've ever done?" She peels herself out of her denim jacket, the one you bought her recently that she called 'ugly.' You fail to mention it though because you begin to question the context of her inquiry.

"Probably like... bondage stuff" You look up from your phone, "Where's this coming from?"

Belle only begins to strip herself of the remainder of her clothing before muttering "I'll get to that." You watch as she throws the worn garments to the side before digging through the dresser for something more comfortable "Wouldn't you find it hot to have complete and utter control over someone, tell them to do something and they're on it with no hesitation or thought behind it" She steps into a pair of shorts "No matter what you ask, they do it mindlessly"

You tilt your head, trying to follow wherever she's going with this. There's a smile on her face but it's not just any smile, it tells you that she's testing the waters, trying to gauge whether or not you were into whatever the hell she was getting at now. "I mean... I guess? I'm not sure"

"You guess?" She gives you a look before pulling an old, loose black t-shirt over her head. She then crawls into bed and you're not surprised when you find her straddling your waist with her hands snaking underneath your shirt. "So... you wouldn't mind putting me under your spell so you could get me to do whatever sick shit you want me to?"

"That sounds like some weird MK-Ultra mind control shit" You chuckle, then wince after she pinches your abs with her sharp nails.

Belle hums "Yeah that's exactly what I mean..." You watch as she backs up a bit, then she begins to think, "well actually I was talking about hypnosis but you get the idea... kinda sorta"

"You want me to hypnotize you?" She nods and now you're confused "You can't actually believe that works babe..."

"It works" She insists, then slaps your chest when she sees the unconvinced and almost judging look on your face.

That's when you realize she's dead serious about it "What makes you want to try hypnosis all of a sudden?"

"Well" She begins tugging at the hem of your shirt "A friend of mine told me about how she and her boyfriend tried it and it sort of inspired me"

You stay silent for a bit, reminding yourself not to say anything slick so she doesn't get upset with you. "So how does it work? Do I get a pocket watch and swing it in front of your face or something?" You end up snickering a bit, still finding this conversation to be more humorous than serious.

Belle gives you a look, trying to hold in her own laugh "No, you idiot! I'll send you some videos later and.." She smiles mischievously before sliding off of you then she goes over to the dresser and digs her hand into her purse. You quirk your eyebrow and sit up to better see what she's doing. The moment she pulls a pair of hand-cuffs out, your eyes widen.

"We're gonna need these too"

So after watching countless videos, you finally think you've mastered the art of hypnosis.

Maybe not "mastered" but you got the gist of it. You've got no clue why you agreed to this in the first place because there was still something in the back of your mind telling you that this would never work and if it somehow did, she'd only be pretending. It's probably the boring pessimist in you that makes you think that way but this seemed interesting. So you keep your questioning thoughts to yourself as you reach into your drawer for the handcuffs.

Belle smiles at you in your dark bedroom, the warm light from the lamp on your nightstand is on the dimmest setting. It makes her naked body look so perfect, highlighting each and every one of her beautiful curves. You walk over to her, putting the cuffs on the bed before you take your hands in hers. "Ready?" She hums and nods her head.

"Now, I want you close your eyes to take a deep breath" She does as you say and you can hear the sharp sound of her nostrils taking in the cool conditioned air, her chest rises with it. "Now slowly exhale" and her chest falls gently "Now breathe as you listen to my voice, focus on it and allow everything else to fade away"

You keep your tone gentle and soft to put her at ease "The faint hum of the air conditioner, the rain outside, the cars passing by, block it all out" You notice that she's still taking those deep breaths, then exhaling them with soft grace. "Just focus on me, allow that tension and stress to melt away. No work, no schedules, just you and I"

"Now listen to my words" You pause for a moment "You'll do as I say, be subservient to me" You begin pulling her into a mindset crafted and molded by you "You want me to handcuff you" At this point, Belle holds a straight face, she doesn't even flinch or cringe at your words. Not even a smirk or a giggle, like you've actually got her in some sort of trance. "You feel the urge to do anything to get me off" and "You will not want us to stop until I say we do"

"Keep your breathing steady and at the snap of my fingers you will awaken with all of these desires"

You raise your hand and put your thumb against your middle finger, then *snap* and her eyes immediately open. There's something about her gaze that you immediately observe, it's kind of dark and empty and she's got a completely blank expression on her face. "What do you want?" You question her softly.

Belle looks over to the handcuffs and picks them up, then she holds them in front of you "Please" She says it with her voice just above a whisper "Please cuff me"

You swallow, not at all recognizing the tone in her voice. It has a chill running down your spine because it sounds almost desperate, like she's really begging for it. You begin to think that maybe this hypnosis shit is actually real and it scares you a bit. But you still take the handcuffs out of her hands as she puts her hands out for you.

It takes you a moment cause you're not used to this but you manage to get them on her. "Knees, princess" You order and just like that, she's dropping to her knees in front of you "Good girl" You mutter under your breath as you look down at her with nothing but lust in your eyes.

It's weird, this was actually turning you on more than you thought it would. Having so much control over her without a fight for dominance or her usual bratty attitude.

No doubt it already has your blood rushing.

So you don't waste any time to pull off your shirt then you unbuckle your belt and you take your jeans off. You take your hard cock into your hand and you pump it slowly "Open" Her lips part and her tongue pokes out "Suck" Is the next thing you say as you guide the head into her mouth.

Almost immediately, she begins bobbing her head mindlessly. Her warm mouth is so wet and welcoming and the feel of her fleshy, slippery inner cheeks and her smooth velvety tongue has your nerves so sensitive. You groan deeply as you allow your hands to run through her scalp then your hips start thrusting forwards because she's beginning to swirl her tongue and it feels incredible. She doesn't even need her hands, so much control, so disciplined and obedient for you. Belle takes your cock like a pro, sucking and slurping it tightly to provide the utmost pleasure and its fucking perfect.

She makes enthusiastic noises as she sucks your cock, like she's been starving for it, like your pre-cum is the best thing she's ever tasted.

You stop for a moment and hold her head still, then you push all the way in so her nose is pressed up against your base. Almost like you're a sadist, you hold her there, watching the way her eyes well up with tears. "So beautiful" You compliment, admiring the look of her glossy eyes. Her throat squeezes you as she gags "Ah fuck" You moan, pushing your hips just a bit deeper and Belle swallows, nearly making you dizzy. So you loosen your grip on her head and she continues to bob her head wildly.

It's like she has no gag reflex with how fast she's going and how deep she's taking you. Each drag of her mouth has you stuck just staring into her eyes, those dutiful brown orbs that tell you she's not going to stop until your cum is shooting down her throat. At this rate, it may not be too far away. "Oh—fucking god" You bite your lip, muscles clenching as she continues to suck you off.

All she can really do is hum and moan with her mouth stuffed full with your cock, the sticky noises only adding to your arousal. You can feel it coming already. She's ruthless with it, flicking her tongue in ways she never has before. "I'm going to fucking—" You can't even finish your sentence because she has your needy cock throbbing in her perfect mouth.

It's muffled, but you can hear it when she moans and starts bobbing her head quicker, like she wants nothing more than to get you off. You don't even realize it when you grip her hair tighter because you're too focused on being at the edge. Usually, when Belle would do this, she'd stop at the last second just to tease because like the brat she is, she enjoyed seeing you squirm. However, it didn't seem like she'd be doing that now. By the look in her eye, you can tell she's going to fucking milk you for all you've got.

Now you're starting to really get the idea of this whole hypnosis thing, even if she's just faking it. You place your hands on her head because even though you know she won't go anywhere, it feels right. You take a deep breath and then "I'm cumming" you announce with a low and long groan escaping your lips. Your eyes shut so tight you can see spots behind your eyelids and in a flash Belle's taking it all down her perfect throat.

It's almost like she can't get enough of you, the way she keeps on sucking she pulls out any bit of semen you have left. She swallows it all and you pull your hips back weakly when she tries to get you back in her mouth "Okay, thats enough" You chuckle tiredly and then she sits back on her heels.

Now the deadpan expression on her face is gone and it's replaced with an eager smile. There's still something off about it but you can't exactly pinpoint what "Did I do good?" She asks, waiting for your response with some drool at the corner of her mouth.

"Yeah, baby" You sigh "On the bed, on your back, now" Another order comes out of your mouth, and you sound more natural about it.

Belle licks her lips then stands up, it takes a little more effort for her to climb onto the bed because of the handcuffs but she does it eventually. "What do you want, princess?" You ask the question again, because you're intrigued about what she'll answer.

"Use my body, please sir I want it so fucking bad—I need it. Need you to use me until you're finished I won't be satisfied until you're done with me" There's this genuine yearning in her tone, something that you almost don't recognize at all.

You go with it though "Lift your arms until they're above your head" A smirk grows on your face as you get a perfect view of her tits. You climb onto the bed and you get on top of her, positioned so that you're almost sitting on her stomach "You gonna let me use these perfect tits?" You ask as if she has any choice in the matter.

Still, she nods her head frantically "Anything" She whines as you grab a hold of her breasts in your big hands. You cup and squeeze them, like always, they're better than fucking pillows, so soft and squishy. You place your cock in between them and press them together on it, you groan immediately when your feel the perfect warmth.

"Fuck yeah" You groan as you begin to move your hips back and forth. She only looks up at you with that lustful look in her eyes. You gather some saliva in your mouth, then you lean over and spit it out. It lands on her boob, then it trickles downwards and you spread it around as you keep fucking her tits.

It was always something you wanted to try out, but you hadn't gotten the chance to ask yet. You were kind of afraid she'd laugh at the idea and you didn't exactly know how she'd take it. Belle would probably be down for literally anything you wanted to try out and it was the same for you—which is why you agreed to do this hypnosis thing in the first place—but you could still do without the teasing that'd come with it.

Your cock slides between her breasts without any resistance whatsoever, it's all smooth and slick and it feels so fucking good. With her hands over her head she just lets it happen because she's fucking loving it. The almost harsh grip you have on her tits has her squirming because she wants to be touched and used in other places, obviously.

You keep the pace though, wanting to stay in this moment for just a little bit more before you move on. "How does it feel baby?" She gives you those expecting eyes, like she yearns for your approval.

So you don't hold back your praises "Incredible, your tits are fucking amazing Belle... I could do this forever" You sigh, listening to the slick sound each of your movements make.

"Why don't you do it forever then? I wouldn't mind" She teases but her tone tells you that she's not really joking.

Maybe hypnosis is real

A small chuckle escapes your lips as you stop your movements "If I did that, I wouldn't be able to get to the best part"

"Which is?" She figures she can let her hands rest on her belly.

You reposition yourself so that you're in between Belle's legs at this point "Right here, princess" She hums when you place your palm on her soaked cunt. It's all slippery and slick with her arousal, she's been absolutely aching to have you inside of her. Your cock throbs at the mere thought of it.

"Please sir"

The way her voice sounds in your hears has you smirking, so fucking desperate. Normally, Belle had far too much pride to beg like this but now that she's under your control things are different.

You might actually prefer it this way

"Please what darling? You want my cock or what?" You mock, wrapping your fingers around your cock so you can nudge it against her entrance. You don't put it in though, you merely slide it up and down her slit slowly, lathering your swollen cock head up with her wetness.

A choked moan forces its way through her throat "Yes! I fucking need your cock—fuck—just inside please just...use me, fucking own me"

"Jesus, you're a fucking slut" You bite your lip, slapping your tip against her needy cunt just to get her that much more riled up before you begin.

"Your slut" Belle corrects, bucking her hips up like she really needs you.

So you stop messing around and you slide your thick cock into her hot entrance. Her walls pull you in immediately, hugging your cock so tightly that you have to stifle a moan "Fucking hell" you whisper instead. Belle exhales softly as you make eye contact with her then you slide yourself in all the way until you reach the hilt.

The look on her face is pure content as you begin to move inside of her. She watches you, not missing the subtle ways your facial features contort from the pleasure. "Fuck me" She begins to pull at the cuffs, fingers trying to grasp at anything while you pick up the pace.

If she wants to get fucked, I'll fuck her—is what you think to yourself as you lean over.

You're moving faster now, hearing a jumbled up mess of words that escape her lips as you do. She's saying your name like its a prayer, begging for it deeper, faster, harder all at once because she wants you to give her everything. "Fucking—please!! more..more..more" It sounds like she just might die if you don't. So that's exactly what you do, you give her probably more than she can handle.

The quiet bedroom now has the sound of your skin slapping against each other echoing throughout it, then there's that filthy sound coming from between your legs—her arousal is audible especially when you bottom out. It's almost like a splashing sound over and over again occurring fast with your punishing thrusts.

"You feel so fucking good, so fucking tight and wet for me" You spit, watching in real time as you dumb her down with your cock. She's blabbering about something, something about how your cock is too good, how she can't get enough of it. That's about all you're able to make out because she's cutting of her own sentences with loud moans then seemingly forgetting whatever she was going to say next.

You smirk a little because you've whittled her down to this complete and utter embarrassing mess. She wants to touch you—to feel your body and you can tell by the frantic way her hands are moving. You almost snicker at how pathetic she looks right now. "What's wrong? Gonna cum already?" Is the question you ask upon noticing that familiar breathing pattern "Go ahead, do it" you grit through your teeth.

She's gasping for air deliberately, like she has to remind herself to breathe. Still she's able to chant "yes-yes-yes-yes-yes-yes" right before the poor girl stops breathing all together. You keep it hard and deep as she goes silent, your grunts being the only other noise that can be heard over the filthy noises of your sex.

Her body stiffens, only moving from the impact of each of your thrusts. Then finally she exhales, legs shaking as she cums all over your cock like she's been longing to. Her cunt clenches around you so tight that it has you not too far behind her. You let your body fall onto hers so she can feel you close as you ride her body through her orgasm, your hips rolling forwards all slow and calculated. "Good fucking girl"

When she's finished you pull your hips back to slip your cock out of her. She whines, not liking the feeling of being empty but she doesn't say anything about it. "Where should I finish?" You question her, lifting your body off of hers. You get off of the bed and reach for the nightstand where the keys to the handcuffs are.

You grab them, then you un-cuff her "I'll be happy with whatever you choose, sir" she whimpers, breathing heavily as you move to flip her over.

It's a bit difficult to get a good grip on her sleek skin, but you're able to do it so she's flat on her stomach "Hands and knees." Belle immediately finds the strength to do so, pulling her body up so that she's in the position you've asked her to be in. You get behind her and your hands find her waist "I think I wanna cum in this tight pussy" You mutter, guiding your sensitive tip to her stretched cunt.

It's begging to be filled again, to be pumped full of your seed.

"Then breed me babe" She breathes, pushing her ass back in an attempt to get you inside when she notices that you're teasing. You only smirk, then you part her lips with your tip, gathering up all the clear slick between her legs. "Come on" Belle moves her hips side to side.

First you run your palm over her soft, round ass and then you slap it harshly. She lets out a pleasureful shriek as you watch the red shape of your hand form on the pale skin. You run the same hand up her hips and stop at her waist which you grip tightly before slip your cock back into her needy cunt.

You put your other hand on her waist, holding her in place while you push your hips forwards. "Christ" You groan because she's way tighter in this position. Starting off slow seems like the right move at first because she's whimpering, so you do.

Until she lets the side of her head rest on the mattress, so she can look at you the best she can in this position. "Don't be afraid to get rough with me babe, I can handle it" She bites her bottom lip so hard you fear she might draw blood. "Use me" She begs you for the nth time with that perfectly seductive voice of hers, making it so hard for you to hold back. You weren't even sure what you were even holding back for anyways.

So while keeping a good grip on her waist, you begin to jackhammer your cock into that wet warmth. "Fuck!" A broken scream tears through her lips and it almost worries you but the lust takes over. You keep hearing it in the back of your mind. use her, use her, use her. So much that you don't care if you're going too hard "Yes! you're fucking me so... fucking good sir!" She keens.

You lean over and reach your hand to find a grip on her hair. She gasps at the sweet pain that comes with the rough pull of your fingers and she's forced to hold herself up with her arms again—which she can barely do. "You're fucking dripping baby" You grunt, getting off on the sharp crack that booms each time your hips come in contact with her round ass. "Such a good slut... taking it so well for me"

"Please" She whines, and you're not entirely sure what she's begging for "Please"

"Please what princess?" You almost growl, feeling your abs begin to burn.

She swallows thickly, moaning like she can't control herself. "f-f-fill me up.. I fucking—God—I fucking need it"

It's coming, you can feel it in your balls. Her cunt is gripping you so perfectly, so smooth and slick that every drag has your jaw clenching and your mind going blank. You're so unbelievably close to stuffing her full of it--it's the only thing you can think about right now. "Yeah... Belle, gonna fucking... cum in you" Your breaths are labored now because the force you're fucking her with is tiring you out.

"God I'm gonna fucking-" Belle squeals, then a rush of clear liquid begins to spill out from between her legs and her mouth hangs open. The pressure almost kills you right then and there but you keep moving, you can't get enough of her. Even when another—more powerful—burst comes out you only grunt as it runs down her legs and stains the sheets.

"Ah...look at you—squirting for me" You'd chuckle if you weren't so close right now. You end up slowing it down, thrusting hard and deep into her cunt slowly. One. Belle shrieks. Two. She moans deeply. Three. She bites her lip. Then four and your cock is pulsing and throbbing wildly inside of her the second you bury it inside of her on the fourth thrust. You moan loudly as you fill her needy cunt with your seed. There's so much that it's dripping down the side.

You can only sigh the little bit of breath you have left as it continues, your voice too broken and fucked up to do anything more. She only hums sweetly, giggling as you let go of your grip on her hair and your body collapses onto hers so you lay flat on the bed.

"Holy shit" You swallow, then you gather up the strength to sit yourself up and you put your hand on her now red ass, rubbing the cheek as you catch your breath. "Good girl" Then you remember that you should probably pull her out of her hypnotized state. "Sit up and close your eyes" You breathe. It takes her a moment, you watch as she sort of struggles to do as you say but eventually she does. "At the snap of my fingers, you will wake up"

You snap your fingers and her eyes open "Oh my God" is the only thing that comes out of her mouth. Her expression is unreadable and you're not sure if its a good thing or a bad thing for a second. Then Belle smiles and she climbs on top of you. You're surprised, but you allow it because the second she leans in to kiss you it just feels right. She pulls away "What the fuck? That was so hot" It's like she herself is surprised that it worked too.

"You remember?" You ask, knowing that sometimes people lose memory after they've been hypnotized, but it seems like Belle didn't.

Belle nods her head "Every second" Then she kisses you again "Especially when you fucked my tits, you could've told me you were into that" she teases, taking her bottom lip in between her teeth.

"I know you, you would've laughed at me"

"But I still would've let you do it" She nods

You tilt your head playfully doubting her words "Sure" Is all you say before she pushes you back so that you're laying down.

"Shut up" She mutters before putting her lips on yours again and you're both smiling into the passionate kiss, feeling that familiar fluttering feeling in your stomach. "Thank you for trying this out with me" She seems genuine about it.

You shake your head "I'll try any kinky shit you throw at me"

and there's no doubt you would

#Kiss of Life #Kiof belle #Kiss of Life Belle #Belle #kpop gg #kpop idol #smut #male reader #belle x male reader #hypnosis #hypno fantasy #hypno k1nk #mind control

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trustmypoison · 2 months ago

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Protective SVT

Requested? Yes!

Request: ‘Please do SVT reaction when SVT and Y/N are in a date (can be Non-Idol or Idol) and some creep are keep looking at Y/N’s Thigh. It’s okay if you are uncomfy to do it :) ‘

Mitigates any of these opportunities for creeps to really get a peek - Joshua, Minghao, Chan

He’s taking off his jacket to put across your lap as soon as you sit down. Or he’s standing behind you in a crowd so no one can sneak up on you. Things like that are genuinely just habits. But if he spots this person, he’s just straight up blocking this person’s view of you, putting himself in between the two of you. He does all of this so discreetly that you don’t even notice why he’s done any of that half the time. It just feels gentlemanly and makes you feel safe without even realizing there is a threat to your comfort.

Can and will fight - Seungcheol, Woozi, Mingyu

Never wants you to be put in a position like this, but if you ever are, he’s itching for a fight. Really has no problem approaching this person and asking why they’re leering at you like that. Will have a ‘that’s what I thought’ sort of attitude if the person turns out to be a coward and backs down at the first sign of an angry boyfriend. But if they’re bold and say something out of pocket, someone might just have to break up a fight. Even if you ask him not to start swinging on everyone who wrongs you, it will go in one ear and out the other because it’s just second nature to him.

Passive aggressively making sure the creep knows you’re taken - Jeonghan, Wonwoo, Seungkwan

Acutely aware of when someone like that is around, and it sort of brings out a possessive streak, and he doubles down on the touchiness. He’s putting his hand on your thigh and keeping it there. Or his arm is around your shoulder, pulling you close. Or he’s got his arm fully wrapped around your waist. It’s a clear sign to this guy that says, ‘don’t even bother’. But he hopes it helps you too because worst case scenario, if you notice this creep, you know he’s got your back. Best case scenario, you don’t even notice because he’s too busy being wrapped around you and keeping you distracted.

Just removes you from the situation - Hoshi, DK

Will not let you stay there and squirm uncomfortably. Don’t get me wrong, they’ll resort to the previous three options if you really can’t leave. But truly, there are very few things he can’t think of an excuse to get out of. So he’s just saying, ‘Why don’t we go home?’ Most of the time, you’ll leap at the opportunity, but if you hesitate, he’s pulling you close to whisper to you and delicately remind you that you have no obligation to stick it out if you’re uncomfortable.

Might not know what to do with this - Jun, Vernon

Might not really know what the proper response to this is. He doesn’t necessarily spot these things before they become a problem, and once they do become a problem, he’s not always sold on the decision to be confrontational or passive-aggressive or to just leave. So he’ll pull you close and ask you what you want to do and how he can help. Any of the four options is something he can do, but this feels like uncharted territory to him in a lot of ways, and the ultimate goal is just to make you comfortable again.

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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 year ago

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pink princess

words: 2.4k

warnings: 18+ only!!, smut, p in v sex, female receiving oral, girly!reader, violence, blood, rafe beats someone up, kelce is the bad guy in this D:

“i just don't get it rafe.” kelce shakes his head.

“what?” rafe mumbles, barely paying attention to his friend. even topper seems barely interested, both too focused on the football game playing on the television.

“how you could date a girl like y/n.”

your name has rafe snapping to attention, turning to glare at kelce. “what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” rafe has only been your boyfriend for a couple months now, but he wouldn't question beating the shit out of his friend if he insulted you.

“don't get me wrong, the girl is nice and all. i like her she's just so… girly.” kelce says like it's an insult. “she only ever wears pink, she's all sweet and innocent. she's just not your type, that's all. im surprised.”

you let out a little sound, all of the boys attention snapping to you, kelces eyes widening when he realizes you have entered the living room.

“baby.” rafe coos softly. “come here.”

you cross over to rafe, rounding the couch to plop on his lap, keeping your head down to avoid looking at kelce.

“don't listen to him, princess.” rafe says softly, his voice so sweet, in contrast to the scared look on kelces face. “you're exactly my type.”

“shit rafe, i-i-didn’t mean-i didn't know she was-”

“get the fuck out.” rafe says, voice still soft as he pets his hand over your back, hating the pout that graces your sparkly gloss painted lips.

“rafe-” kelce tries to argue.

“no. get the fuck out. you're lucky im not beating your ass into the ground for upsetting my girl. now get the fuck out.”

kelce scrambles, rushing out of tanneyhill as the game continues on the tv, topper rightly deciding to remain silent.

“baby, talk to me.” rafe says softly, seeing tears still brimming in your eyes.

“im fine.” your voice is hoarse when the words finally escape your mouth.

“darling.” rafe sighs, tugging your bodies closer together, letting your head bury in his shoulder, not caring if you leave makeup stains on his shirt.

rafe knows the best thing to do is just let you breath, not wanting to work you up more with his words as his hand strokes over your back, hoping it's bringing you some sort of comfort.

“i had no idea he felt that way.” you finally pick your head up. you weren't close to very many girls, so when you and rafe started dating, you tried to quickly assimilate into his friend group and consider his few friends yours as well.

“he's just being a dick. don't worry, alright bunny? you're absolutely my type, and i love how girly you are, mkay?” rafe waits for you to nod and agree with him before he pulls you into a kiss, topper keeping his eyes trained on the tv while you make out.

“you ready to go princess?” rafe calls up the stairs, tapping his foot against the wood floor, waiting for you to finish getting ready to attend the gala he promised his dad he would be at.

“coming now!” you say before rushing down the stairs, but still being careful not to trip in your heels.

“you look gorgeous, honey.” rafe admires your outfit. its a new dress, or at least one that he hasn’t seen before. rafe takes your hand in his as you finish your descent, frowning when he realizes the glittery polish that was on your fingers has been scrubbed off, replaced with a creamy white that matches your dress, the only pink thing on your body being your lipstick.

“is that what you are wearing?” rafe questions.

“why, is something wrong with it?” you frown as you look down at your body.

“no-no.” rafe shakes his head. “not at all baby its just… very formal.” he figures the wording is better than blatantly asking why you’re not covered in pink and sparkles.

“well, it’s a formal event.” you roll your eyes, heading towards the door, not wanting to give ward a bad impression, and you know you’re already running late.

“yeah, right.” rafe nods, but his mind whirls in secret, wondering if there could be more to your change in appearance than that.

“you're going golfing with top today right?” you ask, rubbing your fingers through rafes hair, massaging his head.

rafe knows you said something, but he's too relaxed to actually make out your words, struggling to blink his eyes open before humming, “what?”

you giggle at his blissed out expression, leaning in to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. “you're going golfing with topper later today right?”

“mhm.” rafe nods, letting out a soft moan when your long acrylics gently scratch over his scalp.

“maybe you can take me. ya know, i could learn how to golf. probably start with just putting.” you shrug.

“baby-” rafe has to take your hands and move them away, knowing he won't be able to focus on the conversation. “why do you want to learn how to golf? you hate sports.”

“that's not true!” you complain. “i like um… gymnastics and figure skating.”

rafe rolls his eyes “you like them for the sparkly outfits and music.”

you pout, moving yourself from straddling rafes lap to next to him on the couch. “aren't i allowed to be interested in the things you're interested in?”

“yes, of course.” rafe sighs, moving to kneel between your knees on the floor, taking your face in his hands, not letting you look away. “and if you really want to come, id love to have you. but if you are asking because you're trying to be less girly, then baby-” rafe leans in to press a kiss to your pouty lips- “i don't want you to change. i love you for who you are.”

“promise you don't mind?” your fingers play with the collar on his shirt, distracting yourself.

“promise.” rafe nods.

“okay, thank god.” you let out a giggle. “golf is so boring.”

you have your laptop and phone opened up, intensely scrolling as you switch between them, brow furrowed as you do your research.

“y/n-”

you slam shut the laptop and turn the screen off on your phone as rafe walks into the room.

“what are you doing?” rafe questions.

“nothing.” you smile at rafe. “just some online shopping.” you hope it's believable, but you can tell by rafes hesitation that he doesn't fully trust your explanation.

“okay…” rafe slowly approaches the bed, and you quickly move your laptop and phone to the bedside table as rafe crawls up next to you.

you distract him from asking more questions as you press your lips against his, pushing him to lay back on the bed as you grind down.

“ah, fuck.” rafe moans when you pull away, pulling your shirt off over your head to reveal that you aren't wearing anything underneath.

rafes hands cup your tits, massaging them in his large palms before suddenly flipping so you're the one laying down against the bed, completely forgetting about your suspicious behavior when he entered the room.

what rafe doesn't know, as he lowers down your body and flicks your nipple with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth, is that you weren't online shopping, rather scowering through social media, trying to find all of rafes ex girlfriends or anyone he interacted with, all while you compared the girls to yourself.

you wish kelces words didn't still echo in your head, especially after rafes insistence they weren't true.

“gonna take a shower.” you tell rafe, setting your bags down in the foyer, knowing you'll get around to them later.

“you sure not a bath? i can run one for you.” rafe offers, following you up the stairs.

“nah, that's fine.” you shrug, frowning slightly when you see your display of lush bath bombs. you're trying to be less high maintenance, more easy going.

“come on, what if i wanna soak with you in the bath?” rafe pouts. “please baby.”

you can't help but giggle at his doe eyes blinking at you. “okay, sure.”

“good.” rafe hums before placing a hand on your waist, pulling you in for a quick kiss before he heads towards the bath, turning the hot tap on. you watch as he looks at your bath bombs before selecting a light blue bath bomb with star embeds.

rafe sets the bath bomb down on the edge of the large tub before turning to you. “what should we do while we wait for the bath to fill?” you question, tugging your ponytail out to let your hair fall.

“mmm, i know exactly what i want to do.” rafe says.

in only a few moments he has your shorts down, perched on the edge of the bathtub while his head is buried in between your legs, tongue licking greedy stripes over your cunt.

“missed you.” you whine, burying your face into rafes chest as he rocks gently, holding you tight to him.

“missed you too, princess.” rafe is relieved to finally have you back in his arms. hes been away for an entire week, and you came to the airport to get him despite rafe insisting that he was fine to get himself home. you just couldn't wait any longer.

you whine when rafe pulls away slightly, making him laugh and tug you back into him.

“clingy baby.” rafe coos, but the words make your cheeks hot as you pull away.

“hey, hey.” rafe grabs your hand, tugging you back against his chest. “i didn't mean it like that.”

“okay.” you whisper with a nod, tears brimming in your eyes. with rafe being gone, you spiraled even further, going as far as to befriend a couple of his exes to compare yourself even more to them. you also attended a party that kelce was at, and while he didn't speak at all to you, you could occasionally feel his eyes on you, disapproval in his gaze.

“love you so much bunny.” rafe says, rubbing his large hands over your shoulders. “let's get home so i can show you how much i missed you, yeah?”

you perk up as you nod, making sure your hand is clasp together with rafes as you head out of the airport and towards the parking lot, your keys hanging from your finger that isn't intertwined with rafes.

“here, baby.” rafe opens the passenger side door for you, but you frown and don't move towards it.

“you just got off a flight, rafe. i can drive.”

“nope.” rafe snatches the keys out of your grasp. “you're my girl, and as long as im here you have no need to drive yourself. now get in, my passenger princess.”

“ready for the party?” you ask rafe, adjusting your skirt as rafe walks down the stairs.

“of course.” he smiles, pressing a kiss to your lips before looking down at your outfit.

“baby… is this really what you want to wear?” rafe asks. he likes any clothes you put on, but the black skirt paired with a plain white cropped tee, not even accented by any jewelry just isn't you.

“i just…” you swallow. “i just know kelce is gonna be there. wanna show him that i don't need to be wearing sparkly pink every second.”

rafe can't speak, the anger quickly rising when he realizes that months later you still haven't let go of kelces words, still worrying that you arent the right person for rafe.

“go put on a sparkly dress.” rafe simply says, not able to keep his voice soft, despite addressing you. you hustle upstairs, changing into the outfit you really wanted to wear, adding some jewelry and colourpop super shock shadow to your lid.

you bounce down the stairs, feeling much more yourself now.

“theres my pretty girl.” rafe says, his words sweet but his face still angry as he places a hand on the small of your back, guiding you out towards his truck.

he speeds to the party as you sit there silently, playing with your rings, worried about what is going to happen when you get to the party, especially knowing kelce is gonna be there.

“rafey, don’t do anythi-” you tell him as he helps you down after parking, but you can’t even finish your sentence.

rafe eyes kelce standing on the front lawn, a red solo cup in his hand. he hasn’t spotted rafe yet, but you know as soon as he does the smile is going to drop from his face.

rafe begins to stalk towards him while you trail behind, grimacing when rafe throws a punch, landing right on kelces cheek.

“fuck you!” rafe shouts, shoving him back before kelce can even realize what is happening.

“yo, man, stop!” some guy you recognize but don’t know his name yells, but doesn’t try to get in the middle as rafe punches kelce again.

you can’t help the smile on your face, watching your man defend you throughout anything, even if it involves turning one of his close friends into a bloody pulp.

“y/n… it’s gone on long enough, stop him.” topper comes up behind you, making you jump.

you turn to look at him before back at kelce, eyes glazed over as rafe shouts at him again. you rush to rafes side, grabbing at his fist. “okay, okay.” you tell him softly. “he gets it.”

rafe steps away as kelce falls to the ground, his chest heaving as his lip and nose drip blood. “let this be a lesson.” rafe turns to the crowd that has grown. “no one shit talk me or my girlfriend or this is what happens to you.” rafe points at kelce, not giving another word before stalking away, literally grabbing you and picking you up to carry you back towards his truck. you stay quiet as rafe sets you in the passenger seat.

“are your knuckles hurt?” you ask, petting your hand gently over his wrist as rafe shifts the car into gear, rushing away from the party.

“i’ll be fine, baby.” rafe says, glancing at his reddened fingers. “just need to get you home.”

“oh.” you nod, knowing that while rafe got some of his anger out on kelce, he’s certainly going to get the rest of his pent up energy out on you.

it takes minutes from the time you get home for rafe to have your back flat on the bed, his large cock thrusting into you.

you moan out, hands gripping at his shoulders, your nails leaving scratches against his tanned skin.

“you’re. my. fucking. girl.” rafe says, accentuating each word by pounding his cock inside of you.

you let out a moan, kelces mean words thoroughly beat out of your head as you nod. “im yours.”

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seresinhangmanjake · 4 months ago

Note

Fluff for Feyd, reader tells him that she’s proud of him and it’s the first time someone’s said that to him genuinely 🩵

Feyd-Rautha x reader

All He Knew

Summary: Feyd deals with the emotional aftermath of protecting you from his uncle.

Notes/Warnings: mention of past abuse, mention of death, and vulnerability. It's fluffy-ish and angsty-ish, and slightly different, but I still kept in the main idea. Hopefully you still like it :)

Words: 1150

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

You knew the second your husband’s blade went through the Baron’s neck that his whole world would change. Everything inside of him would disconnect. The pieces of his inner self would scatter chaotically, and he would no longer know who to be. You knew because of the power his uncle held over him for the majority of his life.

After Feyd killed his mother, the Baron was all he had. And how do you go from having the fullness of an overbearing presence on your shoulders—miserable as it was—to nothing? By killing the Baron, Feyd excised a part of himself, as if some creature had sauntered up to his side and taken a big bite out of his body. And now there’s a chunk missing that you fear cannot be filled, even by you.

He cries when he thinks you’re asleep. And though you continue to feign unconsciousness as you roll over and drape your arm over his waist, it’s not always enough to stop the tears. Part of you knew it wouldn’t be, but you still hoped. You hoped that having you beside him would remind him why he did what he did.

The Baron had ordered your execution because you were taking too long to provide an heir, and as you were dragged in front of the old man to answer for your ‘crime’, Feyd was nowhere near to protect you. The Baron was smart—he took you from the comfort of your bed in the early morning as your husband was training for another fight in the arena. The plan was simple, and Feyd wouldn’t know about your fate until it was too late. He wouldn’t be able to save you.

But he did, somehow. Your best guess is that Feyd has a mole, or many, throughout the Harkonnen fortress to relay everyone’s movements, because Feyd was rushing into the room and thrusting his blade into squishy flesh just as the order to end your life was leaving the Baron’s lips. And in those quick seconds, your husband was changed.

You don’t know how to bring him back to you. At least, you didn’t. You wrestled with it for days until it dawned on you that what he might need is not necessarily your touch or the reminder that he still has a wife, but instead, the words he deserves to hear.

—

“Feyd, I’m proud of you.”

You’ve been watching him all morning, standing aside, not wanting to interrupt his process of slowly nipping away at a training dummy with his knife. There are holes of all sorts in the torso, both deep and shallow, and slashes across the inanimate face. It has lost both its legs. One arm hangs on by what would be a thin cord of skin were it human. When your words reach him from the other side of the room, he pauses mid-swing.

“You did a hard thing,” you continue as his arm drops to his side and he straightens his stance from a fighters position. “You did a painful thing.”

His adam’s apple bobs. He sighs and stares down at the blade, the sharp point digging into his index finger as he twirls it. He has yet to look at you in the hour you’ve been here, and with the unpredictability of your husband, you don’t know what he’s going to do next. But you wait, patiently, because that is what you can do for him.

“I wouldn’t let him take you from me,” he finally says. The blade stabs into the gut of the dummy. “He’s damaged me enough.”

That’s all he gives you. Your heart shatters for him and for the walls he’s been building between you since he killed his uncle; walls that took you ages to tear down after you married him. You’d done so well at getting him to trust and love you, and you hate to watch the bricks stacking as the minutes pass.

“Since when are you proud when I kill?” he asks.

And it’s a fair question. You’ve never been a fan of the death that wreaks through the halls of the Harkonnen fortress. You’ve never enjoyed his triumphs in the arena. But this is different, and so you must handle it differently, with a gentle hand and well-chosen words, despite what those words may bring.

He hasn’t often handled well certain topics that you’ve tried to bring up in the past. Risky topics, you learned. Topics that have usually left him drawing away from you until the next morning comes and he can pretend as if you never brought them up.

When you’ve asked about his parents, he gets fidgety; can’t stand still, can’t stop messing with his hands, can’t look you in the eye for more than a quarter of a second. He’s unlike the husband you know. When you’ve asked about his uncle, he’s worse. He’s more than just unlike your husband, he detaches himself from the moment completely. He becomes stiff as a board; a statue with a faraway gaze in his eyes. He offers few words. But those reactions are enough for you to assume the truth of his past without him giving you more than the little he has.

“Feyd, he was abusive,” you say, closing the distance between you. “You ended someone who had power over you for years. Of course I’m proud of you.”

“It’s not as if I did it for me; I did it to save you.”

“You did it,” you tell him. “You did it when you needed to protect us most. You didn’t let him hurt me and force you to accept his justifications for doing so. That's what matters.”

Long beats pass that grow longer with each one. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears so violently that they feel stuffed with cotton. You fear his reaction; a further pulling away from you—something you’re not sure you’ll be able to take. But then he drops the knife to the floor, turns to you, and tucks his head into the space where your neck meets your shoulder.

His arms slowly snake around your waist and squeeze you tight, and you’re struggling to breathe properly, but you don’t care because the half-built brick wall just tumbled down. He needs you.

His exhales shakily graze over your collarbone. A droplet forges a path down your chest, disappearing into your cleavage and leaving a chilled trail in its wake. You raise your hand to the back of his head and hold him against you, letting more droplets trickle down your body, letting your skin muffle sobs.

“I’m sorry it had to be like this,” you whisper.

He inhales, breathing you in, and then says, “There’s not a life where I wouldn’t have done it for you.”

“I know,” you tell him.

“It shouldn’t hurt.”

“It’s allowed to hurt,” you say. “He’s all you knew.”

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha fic #austin butler #dune 2

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some-bunniii · 1 year ago

Text

My Charming Red Savior [2]

・❥ Two odd visitors and a mugging. Can’t you stay out of trouble?

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

x: he’s back!! a little longer this time, 8k words. enjoy!

That evening after meeting Alastor, you sat at your friend’s dining table, your mind racing.

Your finger aimlessly twisted that gold ring he had magically placed on your digit, as you explained what happened. The creep harassing you, Alastor swooping in to save you. All of it laid out for your friend to digest. Which she wasn’t taking it very well.

“I mean, I'm glad that demon helped you out of that, but you should have gotten away as soon as possible! Haven’t you heard what he’s done, what kind of deals people have made with him?”

You sighed, feeling a bit frustrated with your friend's skepticism. "Look, I get it, you're worried. But Alastor isn't what everyone makes him out to be. He helped me when I needed it most. Besides, who are we to judge someone solely based on rumors?"

Your friend leaned forward, her eyes fixed on the ring adorning your finger. "What about that? What if it's some sort of trap he set for you?"

You instinctively pulled your hand back, a protective gesture. "Don't be ridiculous. Alastor wouldn't do something like that. He's... different."

"Different? More like dangerous," she countered, reaching out to grab your hand. "Come on, let me see that ring. We can take it to someone to see if it’s been magically altered."

Dangerous? He saved you from someone dangerous! Yes, he was a demon. A sinner, who probably did some bad things, and most likely continues to do bad things. Except, for the fact he didn’t leave you, a defenseless nobody, to be taken off and.. you couldn’t even think about it.

You jerked your hand away from her hand, the ring glinting in the lamplight. "There’s nothing wrong with the ring, you’re just being paranoid. It’s.. comforting, actually."

Your friend sighed, frustration evident in her voice. "I just don't want to see you get hurt. Please, at least consider what I'm saying."

You softened, realizing she was only looking out for you. "I appreciate your concern, I really do. But I’m not a child, I can make my own decisions."

Your friend relented after a moment, sinking back into her chair. She nodded slowly, agreeing with your statement.

At that moment, your friend’s husband had entered the room. A large pot of steaming foodstuff in his oven-mitt protected hands as he walked.

“I hope you guys are hungry!” He said cheerfully, the tension in the room easing with his upbeat demeanor. You quite liked him, he had some good jokes and cared about those around him.

You smile gratefully, welcoming the distraction from the intense conversation. “Absolutely starving,” you reply, grateful for the opportunity to shift the focus to something more light-hearted.

Your friend’s husband sets the pot on the table, filling the room with the delightful aroma of home-cooked food. “Well, dig in!” he encourages, serving everyone generous portions.

As you take a bite, the flavors dance on your palate, and your eyes light up as you eat.

“What is this?” You turn to her husband, who looked up from his bowl, face stuffed with food.

“Crawfish Étouffée! A popular dish from New Orleans, back on Earth. Do you like it?”

You nodded vigorously. Is this what Jambalaya tastes like? If so, you really needed to try it. Maybe, you’d see Alastor again, and he could give you that recipe he had mentioned?

As your thoughts drifted back to the red demon, your finger began to twist the ring around your digit once more. Why did it bring you such comfort? You had no idea.

Sometimes, if you put your hand to your face, you could smell faint traces of his scent, that you had first memorized when you walked side by side with him. It smelled like an old cologne, something that you couldn’t quite recognize from your days. Maybe, it was back when he was alive?

Lemony, hay-like and grassy. A whiff of licorice. Something peppery too? You couldn’t quite place it. But every deep inhale sent you into a lull. A trance, almost.

Your finger still mindlessly caressed the golden band a while later, during the early hours of the morning. You had been sweeping the front doors to the formalwear store you worked at, tidying up before it would be opened for customers.

It wasn’t until you heard the sound of someone clearing their throat, did you get pulled back into reality.

“Pardon me, miss. Are you guys open?”

Turning around to address the voice, you find no one. It wasn’t until you looked down did you see the demon man. He resembled that of an imp. Dark red skin with thin, striped horns that peaked out of the top of his head.

He wore a white turtleneck, with long white hair that curled around his chin. His eyes were unreadable, hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. They were Ray-Burn glasses. You could immediately tell from the bridge, which were curved to resemble a half-circle rather than an oval.

You also knew how high-end that brand was, and it wasn’t easy getting a pair either. The wait for those was no joke. And, this style was from their newest collection, which meant that he had to be of some importance to get one so soon.

His posture also struck you as odd, especially for an imp. He stood tall, shoulders back, head held high. Despite being a part of one of the lowest social classes in Hell, the demon regarded everyone and everything around him with an air of confidence and assertiveness.

It was also odd that he was wearing sunglasses so early in the morning, there wasn’t really much light to need protection from. Maybe he had some bat genetics in him?

You smiled at him, but shook your head. “I’m sorry, sir. We’re closed right now. You’ll have to come back later.”

The imp visibility deflated at your words, a frown etched on his face. You could see his eyes through the shades just enough to show them flicking down the streets.

“Oh, okay. That’s fine, I guess. Thanks, I'll just.. have to figure something else out.”

He backed away, as he scanned the nearby stores again. He muttered to himself, too quiet for you to hear, but his tone sounded scolding. As if he was berating himself. The demon bit his lip, as if he was contemplating something.

A pang of sympathy hit you, as you watched him become more anguished. It seemed like he really needed whatever was inside, and you didn’t have a reason to deny him business other than to follow the official hours of operation.

Placing the broom against the brick wall, you pulled out a set of keys. The demon turned slightly as he heard its jingle, and you met his shaded gaze.

“There isn’t really anything else I need to do before opening though, so I suppose it’s not a big issue letting you inside.”

The imp perked, a smile blooming on his lips at your words. You bent to turn the lock with a click. Pulling the door handle, you pulled it behind you, allowing the demon to follow you inside.

“That is so kind of you! Truly, you don’t get to meet many kind and considerate people in this place.”

Well, it was Hell. Being friendly to strangers was not a common occurrence. You just weren’t one of the, well, bad ones. Sure, you had some flaws, you weren’t a resident for no reason. But, you prided yourself in having a reasonable moral code.

“Don’t worry, I know what I need. I’ll be quick!” The imp promised, as he passed through the entryway. The large room was dark, besides the morning light casting through the windows.

You flicked on the lights, and the overhead lamps lit the interior of the store. There were mannequins lining the dark-blue walls, styled in different tuxedos and dress shirts. Next to them were rows of shelves, each specific to a type of garment. There were dress pants, vests, shoes, and smaller accessories like ties and belts.

As you walked behind the black-granite countertop, the imp had hurried over to a mannequin facing out of a glass display. He reached down near its feet, a small shelf lifted from the floor. A pile of red suits was neatly tucked next to the display.

Gingerly, he lifted to the top piece, examining it thoroughly. After a few moments, he brought it closer to his chest, before turning to you. Your hands tapped against the display of the digital cash register, readying it for service.

You looked up just as he placed the garment on the counter, your eyes scanning the suit. Strange, he was still wearing those shades. You simply smiled at him, before pulling the item closer to you. Carefully, you unfolded it, examining its form.

It was a beautiful red tuxedo, with golden lapels. Dark-red buttons, with white cuffs. It was a women’s suit, which was rare for you to see, since the store mostly marketed towards men.

“What a wonderful piece!” You exclaimed, your tone dripping with customer-satisfying professionalism. “Getting this for a special someone?”

The imp nodded. “For my daughter. She runs a hotel a few blocks away, up the hill. The Hazbin Hotel, if you've heard of it? She needed a new suit, and this was the perfect fit.”

The hotel that was supposed to help sinners with redemption? You’ve heard bits and pieces, mostly when you watched that disastrous interview with Katie Killjoy. You couldn’t recall who ran it, though.

“A little, but you sure do have an eye for style!” You nodded, grabbing the small tag from the sleeve to input the information into the register.

“Well, it was my sweetheart who picked it out first,” the imp gushed, “I can’t take all the credit, I'm not good at these sorts of things, anyway.”

“Do they have a background in fashion?”

“No, they’re an artist,” the demon beamed, his voice growing softer as he spoke of his lover, “I can promise, you’ve never seen a real painting until you’ve seen theirs. If it were my way, I'd fill every billboard with them, instead of those.. repulsive pornography ads they have downtown.”

The imp held a look of pride and admiration as he spoke, obviously having full confidence in his claim. You pulled up the item on your screen, and read him the price. It was not a cheap suit, but the demon had no reaction to the total and simply pulled out his wallet.

“Is business running smoothly at the hotel? Do you guys get a lot of guests?”

The imp contemplated for a moment, before pulling out a large sum of money, placing it gently on the counter. You reached for it, before licking your finger and counting through the bills.

“Not entirely. It just opened recently, and, with the demons it caters to? Hah, there’s not many around here with the mindset of redemption. But, I'm going to be helping her out, supporting her with the work.”

What a nice father, helping his daughter out like that. If only someone like that had helped you when you were younger, maybe you would be stu-

“Especially when it comes to keeping an eye on some of the.. colorful characters she calls staff. Like that Radio Demon.” As the imp spoke, you could hear the disdain in his tone, as he uttered that name. Your head shot up from the bills in your hand at his words.

Radio demon? Alastor? Alastor was working at the Hazbin Hotel?

“As in, the tall red guy with deer antlers? Carries a staff around with a microphone on it?” You questioned him, excitement lacing your voice.

“Yes. Do you know him? Word of advice, stay away from that demon. He’s nothing but a self-serving, pompous show-off.”

That couldn’t be true, could it?

Quickly, you placed the bills into the cash register, pulling out change to hand to the imp. As he took the money in your hand, you found it right to defend Alastor.

“He helped me out of a tough spot awhile ago, practically saved my life, actually.”

The demon regarded you for a moment, eyebrows raised as he took in your words. He didn’t argue, seemingly trying to leave as fast as possible. Back to the hotel presumably. “Hmph. Well, just be careful, you never know with demons like him.”

You were about to wish him farewell and turn away, before his hand lifted once more. Looking down, he held another stack of money in his hands, you could faintly read ‘100’ on one of the bills alone.

“For your kindness,” the demon stated simply, giving you a wink, “I enjoyed our short chat, there’s not many people down here I'm interested in talking to. Go treat yourself.”

Your eyes widened at his words. How did he have so much money he could just.. give it away?! You almost wanted to reject his offering. But, money was money, so you took them from his grip.

“I-I don’t know what to say, but thank you! This is very generous of you.”

He only shrugged, sending you a charming smile. “I am indeed a very generous person. Just don’t spend it on drugs, or anything like that.”

As you handed him the small pink bag, his shaded gaze landed on the ring on your finger, and he leaned in just an inch to get a closer look.

“Boy, that is a fine piece of jewelry you’ve got there! Very nice, was it from a lover? It really makes a statement! Just curious.. do you by any chance know where you got it from?”

You tilted your head, wondering why he wanted to know, was he planning on getting one himself? You just shook your head, you couldn’t really tell him it magically poofed onto your finger by the same demon he held negative feelings for.

He nodded, muttering something like ‘that’s fine’, before pivoting away from you towards the door.

“Adios!” He called, a hand in the air in farewell as he strolled to the exit. The bell above the door jingled as it closed behind him, and you saw him step near the curb, away from your view.

Suddenly, a flash of gold illuminated the small window on the door. Crossing the room, you peeked out the large display window. There was no one on the street, even when you cranked your head to both sides of the street. It’s like he just.. vanished. Strange.

You flipped the large sign on the window from ‘Closed’ to ‘Open’ before returning behind the counter. Your fingers still holding the money he gave you, your mind elsewhere as you waited for the day to begin.

Your thoughts were still on that encounter when the assistant manager walked up to you a few hours later. He was a rather short, plump man with small horns protruding from his head. His skin was a pale blue, his figure resembling that of an ox. Alan was his name.

You weren’t very fond of him, he always threw flirtatious comments and jokes at you. Always insisting to join you behind the counter, or lean right over your shoulder when you worked. He reminded you too much of that creep from the streets, which made you uncomfortable.

What was up with you always attracting the questionable suitors? Maybe your friend at the cafe was right, you weren’t going to find ‘The One,’ you’d just have to settle for less.

Alan would always try and pry into your personal life, asking if you had a lover, or kids. You’d simply change the conversation as smoothly as possible. If you told him we’re single, he’d no doubt try and court you. Which made you nervous, he didn’t seem like someone who could take a rejection.

You weren’t able to say, ‘why yes, I have a hubby of my own!’ because you never had proof. Without a ring, and the rest of your co-workers aware of your singlehood, you knew lying to him would have consequences.

Not to mention, he was your boss. He had power, and unless you wanted to end up homeless on the street, you had to keep a friendly facade with him.

Luckily, he wasn’t around much. Except today your manager had meetings out of town, and he was the substitute. So, for now, you were stuck with him.

“Hey, you still know how to use that sewing machine in the back, right?” He asked you after you had finished assisting a customer near the large display window.

You nodded, curious about his question. In truth, being a tailor sounded much better than working for customer service. You had spent late nights slowly practicing the craft, on that ancient sewing machine in your basement. Maybe, you’d use that money the imp gave you to buy a new one.

“Well, Darlene just called in, which means I got no one as my seamstress. We’ve got a few pieces in need of mending, you think you can handle that?”

“Oh, sure! I can do that, no problem.”

It was then you heard the bell above the front entrance jingle slightly and the creak as the door opened, which caused you to turn sharply to greet the newcomer. Except.. there was no one there.

That was strange. There were other customers milling about, but you were standing in a position that made it impossible to miss anyone exiting the building.

“Must be having strong winds or something.” Alan remarked, and you turned back to him. As you moved, you noticed the corner next to the doorway was more shaded than usual. As if a large black shadow had taken residence there. Perhaps an overhead light went out? You’d have to check on that later.

“Anyway, I wanted to ask you something,” Alan started, a flirtatious smile on his lips as he lowered his voice, “I’ve got VIP access to a new club that just opened a few blocks down. I was thinking you and I could get some drinks and have a little fun, whatcha say?”

You groaned internally. Not this again. How were you going to say no this time?

“Well, I mean, um- you see the thing is…”

Your eyes went down to the ring on your digit, that little A shimmering in the light. Maybe, you could use this.

“… I’m already taken!” You exclaim, your hand shooting up to give Alan a front row seat at the prize on your person.

“You are?” He asked incredulously.

“Mhm!” You nod your head vigorously. “As you can see, this is my wedding ring. I eloped not too long ago, hence why it’s not common knowledge.”

Hopefully, he would buy your lie.

Alan stood there, his eyes flicking from you to the ring. Was he going to try and fight your claim? It seemed like he wanted to. Before you even gave him the chance to, you whipped towards the door being the counter to start mending.

You had only used the machine in the back a handful of times, but you were trying to become more familiar with it. Nodding, you quickly slipped into the back room. The hum of the old sewing machine greeted you like an old friend as you fired it up and began to mend the pieces in need of repair.

The rhythmic clacking of the needle against fabric filled the air as you lost yourself in the task at hand, the radio beside you playing soft old-timey melodies in the background. You continued this calm pace for a few hours, thankful to be away from Alan and the bustling state of the store.

Until a familiar static-laced voice broke through the music.

“Hello, sir! My, what a hellish morning it is!”

Your foot instantly moved off the pedal nestled under the table, the vibrations from the machine ceasing as it stilled. You strained your ears, is that who you thought it was?

“Oh, why hello there! How can I assist you today?” You heard the loud, boisterous voice of Alan as he welcomed the newcomer. Quickly, you left your seat, and peaked through the small crack in the doorway.

Your breath quickened as your eyes landed on the tall, red demon. Alastor. How did he get in here? You didn’t hear the loud bell jingle at his entrance.

He sported his usual red coat, with his staff resting lazily in his grip as he stood before the demon. He had a large smile on his face, but his eyes spoke differently. He looked absolutely bored, disinterested in the man before him and his surroundings.

“I’m simply here to adjust some wear-and-tear on my suit,” he remarked, “as you can see, my sleeve has taken quite the nasty wound.”

He lifted up his arm, displaying a tiny piece of missing fabric from the cuff. It was a clean slice, as if someone had taken a knife and barely nicked it. Nasty wasn’t exactly how you’d describe it, more like itty bitty.

“If I may..” Alan leaned in slightly, reaching out to inspect the tear.

Alastor only pulled his arm back, rejecting the gesture with a subtle yet firm movement.

“I prefer to handle my own attire, thank you,” Alastor stated, his voice carrying a hint of disdain as he withdrew his sleeve from Alan’s reach. His smile widened further, as he stared at the demon.

Your boss recoiled slightly, taken aback by Alastor’s abrupt refusal. “Oh, of course. My apologies,” he stammered, attempting to regain her composure, “but not to worry, sir! We’ve got fabrics that match and a seamstress to do the work. Let me go grab her for you, I'll be right back!”

You saw Alan turn in your direction, and you backed away from the door. Your heart raced as you realized you were going to actually be face to face with Alastor again. How would he react to your presence?

You shot into your seat, spinning around towards the machine. You stepped on the pedal, and the machine hummed to life once more. The door opened, and Alan poked his head in.

“Hey, there’s a customer who needs some assistance. Get out here.”

His head disappeared from view, leaving you alone once more. Exhaling a large breath to ease your nerves, you rose from your seat. Quickly, you walked over to the door and gripped the handle tightly. Another deep breath, and you pulled it open gingerly before taking a step outside.

Your boss was back beside Alastor, who towered over the man. As you slowly entered the room, Alastor’s eyes moved to you. They lit up with interest, the smile seeming to shrink slightly. The crooked edges on his smile softened too, appearing more genuine as he regarded you.

“Ah, there you are, my dear! I was hoping to find you here.” Alastor called to you. He stepped right past Alan, completely ignoring his presence as he strode up to you.

As he closed the distance, you became awfully aware of how fast your heart was beating inside your chest. That smell of lemons and licorice hit your nose as he stood before you, and it eased your nerves as you took a quick inhale of breath.

He turned, allowing Alan to see both of your faces as he slowly reached out to take your hand. His thumb gently grazed against the gold band and it spun slightly. Your breath hitched at his touch.

“It is so nice to be able to visit my dear wife at her place of work,” Alastor started, his gaze shooting to Alan as he spoke, “and, to meet her lovely coworkers! A pleasure indeed.”

Did he hear you telling Alan about your ring? He couldn’t have, but there seemed to be no other reason for him to bring up the whole marriage farce.

Alastor turned back to you, finger still softly caressing your hand as he turned his attention to his sleeve.

“It appears I’ve gotten into another miscommunication with an overly confident adversary, similar to what I spoke to you about before. Would you care to assist me, my love?”

Your eyes momentarily snapped to Alan, who had turned a paler shade as he watched Alastor’s actions. Now, he was finally seeing who your ‘husband’ was. It appeared to be quite a shocker for the demon.

Your gaze flicked back to Alastor, who stood next to you. That grin of his hiding whatever emotions he was feeling as he slowly released your grip, indicating for you to lead him away.

“Thank you for coming to visit, Alastor. I can stitch that up for you, you’ll just need to let me take it for a bit.” You smiled at him, doing your best to play the part with professionality. What, were you supposed to just start calling him pet names like ‘honey’ and ‘babe’?

“I think I'd prefer keeping it on.” Alastor said curtly, adjusting his collar.

He wanted to still be wearing it while you fixed it? That meant you couldn’t use the sewing machine, without risking injury to him.

“… I suppose you can just follow me, then.” You replied, turning away as you beckoned him towards the back room.

Alan didn’t follow the two of you, maybe Alastor’s comments threw him off. You hoped they did, you had enough of that guy for one day.

You opened the dark gray door, pulling it wide so Alastor could follow behind. The back room was a cozy nook from the busy establishment, half of it transformed into a makeshift tailoring nook. A small step stool nestled among tall mirrors allowed a multi-angle look for customers getting a fitting.

Rolls of fabric lined orderly shelves nearby, accompanied by an array of sewing essentials. In the corner, a small table and chair housed the ancient sewing machine. You walked forward, before realizing

“Oh, i’m sorry, I don’t have another chair. Let me go get one!” You pivoted to go find a spare, but Alastor only lifted his hand in a sweeping motion, brushing off your attempt.

“Not to worry, my dear! I’ve got it under control.”

He reached a hand forward, gripping the air like he was grabbing the top of the backrest of a chair. He tugged at the air, and a plume of green smoke wafted from his fingertips as he pulled a wooden chair from the smoke.

You stared, mesmerized as he dragged it next to your seat. He gingerly lowered himself, and plopped into the chair. That had to be powerful magic, for him to be able to produce such an object easily from thin air. Just like he did with the seasoning.

Quickly, you gathered the necessary essentials to begin fixing his garment. A couple of needles, some dark red thread, and multiple fabrics that you seemed the closest to his suit’s color.

While you collected the items in a small bin, Alastor sat comfortably behind you. His nails clicking against his cane rhythmically as the music from the radio filled the room.

He hummed softly along to the melody, obviously familiar with the tune playing. You had heard it before, a classic rendition of ‘Once In A While’ by Lennie Hayton. It was a softer tune, and an orchestral piece that allowed you to drift into a comfortable lull.

As you carried the bin back to your seat, you nestled in beside him. There was a small distance between the two of you, your knees a few inches from grazing each other.

“May I?” You asked, holding out your hand to take his sleeve. You thought Alastor was going to react negatively to the gesture, like he did with Alan. Instead, he carefully reached out his arm, allowing you to pull his sleeve down to the surface of the table.

You tried very hard not to touch his skin, as you adjusted the tear on his cuff to face you. Grabbing a few pieces of fabric, you began to hold them next to his sleeve, attempting to find the perfect match.

“So, what happened this time? Surely, not that snake demon from before.” You spoke, trying to spark conversation with your ‘husband’.

“Ha, I’m glad you do remember our last conversation! I was worried you'd forgotten as the days went by.” Alastor started, sinking deeper into his seat. He placed his cane against the table,

‘Of course, I'd remember,’ you thought, ‘I can’t get you out of my head, no matter how I try.’

“I had found myself in a rather lively discussion with a particularly vexing imp. Tiny thing, but full of mischief and malice. Managed to get itself tangled in my grip during our little altercation.” He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “I must say, it put up quite the fight for something no larger than a rat. But fear not, I emerged victorious, albeit with a few battle scars.”

Alastor gestured towards the tear on his sleeve, his eyes sparkling with amusement. You smiled at his words, a small chuckle coming from your throat as you pulled another piece of fabric to his cuff.

Finally, you found the color that matched his attire, and you carefully began cutting a large piece from the roll.

“I’m going to have to hand sew your tear, is that okay?”

“Of course, my dear! Just try not to poke me, hm?”

You nodded with a smile, before plucking the small needle from the table.

With nimble fingers, you carefully align the edges of the fabric, pinching them together to ensure a snug fit. Holding the needle firmly between your thumb and forefinger, you begin to weave the thread in and out with practiced precision, creating neat, tiny stitches along the seam.

“I have been meaning to ask, how did the seasoning I gave you fare?” Alastor spoke, his eyes filled with intrigue as he waited for your response.

“Oh! It was fantastic!” You beamed, your mouth watering slightly as you recalled the wonderful dinner from that night. “They made Crawfish Étouffée, and it was very delicious.”

“Ah! Yes, that dish was a staple back in New Orleans, when I was alive. Folks would gather all over to get a taste of my mother’s own twist on the delicacy. She was quite the cook, and her skill never faltered.”

As you listened, you realized his voice softened quite more when he spoke of his mother. That static in his tone seemed to disperse as he mentioned her, and you caught a glimpse of his true voice behind that radio overlay.

“Well, now that I've gotten a glimpse into such an art. I really am interested in trying your Jambalaya.” You spoke genuinely, your fingers still delicately lacing the thread across his sleeve.

“I am pleased to hear that,” Alastor hummed, “I’ll have to bring you a sample the next time I'm in the area.”

Silence filled the room, other than the music that wafted from the radio’s speaker. You continued to adjust and stitch together his sleeve, very close to finishing the mending work.

Even though there were no words spoken between the two of you, the silence was not awkward at all. The two of you simply sat comfortably in each other's presence.

Behind you, the slight crack in the door allowed you to hear the loud voice of Alan, as he spoke to another customer. Alastor’s ears twitched slightly as he heard the demon speaking, his body tensing momentarily.

“Has that wretch been bothering you often?” Alastor spoke after a moment, the static in his voice growing thicker as he spoke of Alan. His claws slightly dug into the table, a faint trail embedded in the wood.

“Well, he doesn't treat me like that succubus did. But, he does not drop the subject of us becoming romantically involved. It gets.. uncomfortable, I guess.”

You sighed as the words slipped from your tongue, a frown forming on your lips as you thought of his many attempts to swoon you. Alastor’s head tilted at your words, that smile cracked even wider as you continued to carefully slip the needle through the fabric.

“Would you like me to ĐɆVØɄⱤ Ⱨł₴ ₴ØɄⱠ?”

You jerked your head up at his words, surprise etched on your face as you turned to him. His voice had changed, the last bit of his sentence distorting into pure static, and you almost didn’t catch his words.

The room crackled with energy, causing your hair to practically stand on end. It was chilling, and you shivered subconsciously at the feeling. The room seemed to darken as Alastor stared at you, his pupils shrinking to resemble radio dials.

“Excuse me?” You questioned, your tone never faltering from its original octane. Which surprised you, since this powerful demon was looking at you with such murderous intent.

‘It’s not you he wants to murder.’ the voice in your head whispered. Which made your heart flutter, was Alastor wanting to kill for you? That was.. unconventionally sweet.

Is that what he did to the succubus the other night when you weren’t looking?

“If the little oaf can’t keep his words to himself, then there is no place for him to continue to sour your mood.” Alastor explained, his eyes taking their original form slowly as he spoke, and the distortion in his tone subsided.

The shadow festering around you slowly shrank away from your seat, illuminating the room once more. That cold feeling that gripped at your shoulders vanished.

It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling that left you, even if it smelled of darkness and destruction. It felt almost.. comforting to you. Like the shadow was pulling you into a protective hug, the chill cooling your heated skin into a soothing embrace.

You only shook your head, “He doesn’t need to die for something like that. And, he’s my boss. Without him, the store wouldn’t run as well.”

Alastor only huffed, leaning back into his seat. His claws left the table, and were instead enclosed into a fist, as he rested his chin atop of it.

“At least the poor bloke ceased in his courting when he realized another had already taken that place.” He shrugged, his eyes glancing down to the gold ring on your hand.

You halted, the needle hanging in the air mid-stitch. How did he know about you and Alan’s conversation? More importantly, what were his feelings about you still wearing the piece of jewelry?

“Oh, right. Yes, I’m sorry for still wearing it, I know it was just for that moment and it was stupid for me to think I could keep it-”

“Nonsense! Do not fret, my dear.” Alastor interjected, brushing off your worry. “Think of it as a small gift to rectify the situation you were forced into that night.”

A gift? He wanted you to keep the ring?

“You could even go as far as to perceive it as a good luck charm, ha-ha. Trouble seems to never escape you, and if this ring can even give you an ounce of protection, why not keep it on to ensure nothing like that night happens again?”

You smiled at him, your eyebrows raised as you listened to his words. A tiny ring, protecting you? You doubted it.

“Well, thank you, Alastor. It is really nice to know someone cares in that way.”

Alastor hummed softly in response, his toothy grin softening into a lipped smile as he turned his attention back to the music playing softly.

The thread tightened snuggly between the two fabrics as you finished the final stitch, your other hand reaching to the small scissors next to you. Carefully, you snipped the thread as close to the sleeve as possible, and you leaned back to take a look at your work.

It looked perfect, like the garment had never taken a hit in the first place. Alastor pulled his arm back slightly, turning it over to inspect it thoughtfully.

“I must say, you have such talent with a needle and thread! When you told me you worked as a door girl, I never expected knowledge of tailoring to be in your resume as well!”

Your cheeks heated as his compliment, and you began to slowly stand from the seat. For a moment, you wished there was something else wrong with his coat that you could fit. If only to keep him here a little longer.

What a selfish thought. You silently reprimanded yourself for such thinking, Alastor had no doubt better things to do than sit here and chit chat with a powerless nobody like you.

Alastor also left his chair, and he adjusted his collar. He gripped his cane, straightening his posture as he turned to you.

“It seems every time we’re together, our conversations are never dull. Thank you for assisting me, I’d love to continue our talks but it appears I have other business to attend to.”

“Back at the hotel?” You asked, as you walked with him to the doorway.

Alastor stopped in his tracks, his eyes widened slightly at your words. He tilted his head at you. “Forgive me, my dear, but I do not remember telling you such a thing. Where did you hear that from?”

Fuck. He never had told you about his place of work, and you writhed slightly under his stare as you tried to come up with an explanation.

“Oh, it’s just an imp had come in this morning, buying a tuxedo for his daughter. He said she ran the Hazbin Hotel. He also said you worked at the hotel too.”

‘And he doesn’t seem to like you.’ you added silently.

Alastor’s grip around his cane tightened, and his smile widened as he thought for a moment. A small chuckle escaped his lips, it sounded dark.

“Are you sure it was an imp, my dear?” He asked slowly.

You nodded, recalling the conversation. “Yes, short with white hair and red skin. Sunglasses too, weirdly. He was quite nice, actually. He gave me some money for helping him, nobody has ever done that for me.”

“Ha! What a kind soul he must be. Did he say anything else to you, by chance?”

You shook your head, “no, not really.”

“A surprise, really. That imp has a knack for using his charm to bend others to his whim. I'm sure that gesture of his was nothing more than to sweep you off your feet for his antics. I’d keep your distance from demons like him, if I were you.”

Was Alastor.. jealous? He couldn't be. But, it seemed like the feelings between the two were mutual with the way he spoke with disdain.

The imp seemed like he had someone he cared deeply for, anyway. You were sure his gesture wasn’t anything more than kindness. Although, you didn’t think Alastor would believe you if you told him.

“But, as you previously mentioned, yes,” Alastor changed the conversation, for his sake it seemed, “I do reside at the hotel in exchange for my services. Redeeming sinners is no easy feat, it needs special hands to mold such a dream into reality.”

“Well, I'm sure you’re doing a great job.” You spoke, doing your best to voice your support for him.

Alastor smiled at you, before nodding in agreement. He pulled the door open, and stepped through the doorway. You followed him, stopping at the threshold as he turned back to you.

He lowered himself slightly, a small curtsy in your direction. As he lifted himself, he leaned closer to you.

“Until we meet again, my wife.” He spoke loudly, most likely for the others in the vicinity to hear. His voice was like honey to your ears as that faint hiss of static dispersed from his tone when his lips settled on wife.

You really did like his voice, and hopefully, you’d hear what it really sounded like more often. His eyes settled on you for a moment longer, as if he wanted to say more. He didn’t, instead turning towards the register across the room.

Leaning against the doorway, you watched Alastor stroll to the cash register. Alan stood behind the counter, and he seemed to shrink slightly under the taller demon’s gaze.

The sharp edges of Alastor’s smile returned as he watched the demon quickly ready the digital display for check-out. His pupils dilating slightly, eyes narrowed as he waited.

You had watched him leave the store, watched him stroll down the street without a glance at anyone else. That mild boredom taking over his features, like it had when he had first arrived.

For the rest of your shift, as you sewed buttons back into place or trimmed stray threads that stuck out of garments, your thoughts continued to stray to events earlier in the day. To that imp, to the ring on your finger, to Alastor and those fluffy little ears on his head.

You were still deep in thought when you clocked out, your feet carrying you out the door as your path led you to the bus stop a few blocks down.

It was a small blue sign, with the symbol of a bus engraved into it. There was no one around, the empty streets quiet as you plopped onto the bench to wait.

Your hands reached into your bag, pulling out your phone from its pocket. You scrolled through your notifications, before clicking on a message from one of your friends.

You were so deep into the screen in front of you, that you didn’t hear the quiet footsteps approach the bench. You didn’t see the knife pointed directly at your face, or the masked man who’s gaze traveled down your form.

“Hey, you!” A voice coated with malice addressed you.

Your head shot up, and you reeled back at the large knife right in front of your nose. Your heartbeat quickened as you scrambled off the bench, the man only keeping pace with you as you backed away.

“You seem like a nice young lady, and I’d hate to ruin that pretty face of yours. Just give me everything you’ve got, and we can go our separate ways.”

“I don’t really have anything for you to take!” You said breathlessly, your hands shaking as you pulled miniscule items from your bag. He only ripped the entire thing from your grip, throwing it behind him.

“What about money? Hand everything over, sweet cheeks.”

You grimaced, before pulling the stack of bills the imp had given you from your person. He ripped them from your grip, before stuffing the money down his pocket.

“That’s all I have, I promise! Please let me go.” You begged, your back hitting the wall of an abandoned building behind you.

You prayed for someone to come to your rescue. Alastor graced your mind, that he’d swoop in to save you once more to save you. He was right, trouble never seemed to leave you.

This time, you’d let him tear this guy apart.

“What about jewelry, huh? I see that ring on your finger, it must cost quite a pretty penny.” The thug sleazed.

Instinctively, you brought your hand to your chest, trying to shield the band from his stare. The demon only closed the distance between the two of you, his mask grazing against your chin as he abruptly yanked you forward.

“Don't fight me, you bitch! Just give it to me, don’t make this difficult.”

His rough hand encircled around your wrist. It was harsh against your skin, and you winced in pain.

“Let go of me! I’ve already given you enough, just leave me alone!” You screamed, hoping someone would come to your aid.

He raked his hand down your finger, the ring slowly moving down your digit as he tried to dislodge it.

It was a snug fit against your skin, and it took him a few moments for him to begin pulling it off your finger. Tears pricked at your eyes as adrenaline pumped through your veins, but you dared not to move with the knife slightly pressing into your side.

Another tug, and the ring grazed over your nail as it was pulled harshly. It wasn’t able to make it past before something strange happened.

The ring ignited in a green flame, and the thug’s hand shot away as he yelled in pain. It licked at the tip of your finger, but you felt no heat from its touch.

You barely had time to blink, or scream before the ring exploded. It burst into a large cloud of green smoke that engulfed your figure. Shielding you from your surroundings. Energy crackled in the air, paired with a chill that made your breath visible as you gasped.

It felt like someone had reached out and gripped at the collar of your top, and you felt a much gentler tug and you were pulled backwards.

The smoke seemed to vanish, and you were drenched into darkness. You felt your feet lift off the ground, as if you were floating.

The problem, you had no idea where you were. Your heart felt like it was going to burst as you squeezed your eyes shut. It felt like hours went by, but in truth, it was only a matter of a few seconds that darkness surrounded you.

Just as quickly as it started, it ended, and your closed eyelids were hit with a ray of light. There were voices surrounding you as your feet touched on solid ground, the floor softer this time, like carpet.

The chatter stopped abruptly as you settled in place, and for a moment you felt like curling into a ball and hiding from whatever scene you had been thrusted into.

“Ah, there you are!” A familiar voice exclaimed next to you, static dripping from their words. “I was wondering how long it would be until you showed up!”

Wait a second, was that Alastor speaking? Was he responsible for whatever the hell just happened?

Your eyes slowly opened, revealing a large room covered in dark red wallpaper that cracked with age. Gold framed the edges, and lights mounted on the walls illuminated a few paintings that filled the empty space.

It looked like a lobby. Couches nestled in a corner around a small box tv. Next to that was a small bar, bottles of liquor stacked on shelves behind the counter.

Your eyes trailed away, before they landed on a small group of demons in front of you. Your breath quickened in fear, as you quickly scanned over their figures.

There was a woman in a red tuxedo, her mouth slightly parted in surprise. Long platinum-blonde hair tied into a neat ponytail as it traveled down her back. Beside her, a tall snake held a hand to his chest as he leaned back slightly, as if he was more afraid of you than you were of him.

There were a few others too, but your mind was racing so fast you weren’t able to get a settle on their frames before you eyes were bouncing around for an exit.

It wasn’t until you felt someone’s arm snake around your elbow did you whip your head to the side, Alastor’s large smile greeting you as he laced his arm with yours in comfort, no doubt noticing the way your knees were about to buckle.

“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, my dear!” He exclaimed, as if your arrival was expected and totally-not-strange whatsoever. His eyes were soft, doing his best to calm you with his familiar presence. You opened your mouth to speak, even though you weren’t sure exactly what to say.

“Who the fuck is that?” The fuzzy, pink spider demon piped up from the shocked onlookers. A pair of hands on his hips as he regarded you with confusion.

Your lips upturned into a faint smile, and you lifted your hand for a half-hearted wave.

“Um, hi..?”

I hope you enjoyed part 2! Sorry for that cliff hanger 😭 i hate doing that but had to end it somewhere haha

and.. hold up yall…

for real?! i did not expect this my first month on this app, nor at all really 😍 what started as “just this one luci one-shot..” became so much more!

Thank you all for the support and love you’ve given me, lowkey itching to buy a computer just for writing (yes, all my fics have been written with sore thumbs haha)

HUGE thanks to @spoiled-slutt for being my beta reader and helping me brainstorm ideas for this part! They’ve been an amazing help, and you should definitely check out their works if they interest you! <3

have a great day, my swans! 🦢

—

taglist:

@the-tortured-poet @anonymousewrites @coleisyn @froggybich @chewbrry @watchinthestarz @mechanicalmari @luxmessorem @plapperlapapp @wonderlife974 @kottenox @cherry-cola-100 @the-shark-named-sharon @rae-pottah @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @corpsebridenightamare @pweewee @nijiru @ourfinalisation @anuttellaa @nonetheartist @bunnypeew @cryptidghostgirl @hxzbinwrites

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hellaverse #alastor

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hoe4sports · 4 months ago

Text

Harm

Leah Williamson x reader ft Sam Kerr

A/n: Been battling this huge writes block for a month now. If you have any tips on out to get rid of it, send help. You need to use your imagination on this bby

Warning: Angry Sam

Summary: You and your ex-wife struggle co-parenting

You look at your watch.

18.53.

It’s now 1 long hour and 53 whole minutes since your ex wife, Sam, was supposed to come pick up your daughter for the weekend.

You don’t really know why you thought it would be different this time, it’s always been like this. From the moment you found her tangled up in her best-friends arms at your home, she’s been someone else. Someone you don’t recognise.

It’s none of your business anymore. You know that she parties and drinks, probably more than what’s healthy. And you know that it’s always a new girl. It’s always the same type of girl too, partygirls.

It’s the same never ending cycle. She gets a girlfriend, then she cheats on her with some random girl that she eventually ends up dating before the cycle repeats itself.

A part of you wants to take your daughter away from her. To never let her see her again. You’re her mom, you are supposed to protect her from harm. But, what do you do when the harm is her own ma?

“Still not heard from her?” Leah hums, her voice coming from behind your back.

You sigh at her while closing the blinds again, letting the last bit of hope disappear. The tears are now pressing in your eyes. You feel defeated. Leah immediately wraps you in her arms.

“Shh, it’s okay, we’ll sort this out” she reassures you. You nod while sniffing into her shirt, standing it with tears.

Your daughter coos from her little bouncer, kicking her feet with excitement. Her toothless grin spreading on her face. You can’t help it, but to turn your head to look at her. She brings a smile to your face. Her similarities to Sam aren’t there anymore. She’s growing into her own person. She has copied down Leah’s smile, just like babies does. Your hair, and your eyes. Not a single piece of Sam left in her. It eases your heart, it makes you feel less sad about your cheating ex-wife.

She cheated when you were just 1 week into your first attempt at getting pregnant. You didn’t leave at first, you did everything you could to salvage it. There wasn’t a single solution that you hadn’t tried. But she didn’t even try. The reality of the situation was that it fell through your hands like sand.

You don’t really understand why it happened. Why she chose her newfound best-friend over her wife and her daughter. It’s something you was forced come to terms with, but that you will never find in your heart to understand or forgive. Perhaps, it’s more that you have accepted the situation without being able to fully grasp the aspects of it.

Leah pulls away from the hug after giving you a kiss on the head. She moves towards your daughter, Ella, and scoops her up in her arms. Ella lets out a big yawn when she feels the comfort of Leah’s arms, settling in comfortably.

“I think that someone is up way beyond her bedtime, isn’t she?” She coos at the little baby in her arms. The sight of them makes your gaze soften, and your body relax. You can’t help it, but smile. They share something special, you just know it. Their bond is unique.

“Should we go upstairs to go night-night, huh Ellabear?” Leah asks as she leans down to kiss your daughter‘s forehead.

“Would you mind putting her down, baby? I think I need a minute..” you excuse to Leah, offering a sad smile.

You know that she’s more than happy to put her down. In fact, she’s been more than happy to put her down since even before she was born. Always excited for all the milestones you reached. Always there, always present.

Leah nods at you before taking Ella’s little hand to wave at you, you smile sadly back at them before they disappear up the staircase of your home.

You look at your watch again. 19.06. It’s been over two hours. That’s where you decide that she has missed her shot for the weekend. You move to the kitchen to find your backpack with your pencils. You reach for your notes before writing down the details around the yet again, missed agreement.

The divorce was messy. Sam wanted the baby. You refused. She pushed for visitation, and time with her daughter in court. You refused. But, Sam somehow ended up winning the case. Of course she did. She hired the best lawyers money could buy. It made your blood boil. Your lawyer recommended that you would write down every time she didn’t pick up Ella, and the details around missed visits.

Leah’s footsteps were soon to be heard coming down the staircase. Her hands eventually placed on your shoulders, lightly providing you with a gentle massage.

“How are you feeling, darling?” Leah’s voice hums. Her soft tone makes your body relax towards her frame.

“I’m just, hm, I think I feel disappointed for Ella. I know she won’t remember this, but the guilt is eating me alive.”

Leah wraps her arms around your waist before turning you to face her. Your eyes meets her, and you share a moment of silence while embracing each other.

“Ella is safe, she’s fed, she’s warm, she’s dry and she has a mommy and a Leah that loves her so much” Leah whispers in your ear.

The statement makes you feel safe, like you are the luckiest girl in the world to have Leah to lean on. To have someone step up to the responsibility when Sam failed. Leah didn’t have to, she had absolutely no obligations. But she still stayed.

“She has a mommy and a mama” you mumble into her arms, “you and me”.

Leah hums in response before your hands intertwine. Your heartbeat slows down, and your breathing softens. It feels safe. It’s feels warm. It’s like your mind unconsciously knows that you and Leah are building the foundation of a future marriage.

Her sincerity and warmth has you drawn to her. How she’s fair, how she never lets anyone get away with anything and how she is protective of what’s hers. You know that she will defend you to the end of the world, even if that means defending you when you are wrong. It’s one of her core values, to never embarrass you infront of others by arguing or correcting you.

Then, there is a knock on the door. The moment fades, and the memory is ruined by the continuous hammering on your door. Your heartbeat fastens again, and your breathing feels quicker and shallow.

You look over at Leah, and see that her fists are turning white. It’s only fair. You would feel that way too if you had something to outpower Sam. But you don’t. She’s taller, stronger, faster and more assertive than what you are.

The banging doesn’t stop, and soon enough you hear Ella’s scared cries in her bedroom through the baby-call hanging around Leah’s neck.

Leah looks at you and urges her head towards the door.

Normally you handle moments like this. But you are just so tired of it. Of Sam showing up drunk or hangover, demanding her daughter to be brought to her. It always scares you. Sometimes, you have nightmares about it. That someday, she’ll drive over drunk and get away with your baby. The kind of nightmares that only can be calmed by seeing that Ella is safe and having Leah holding you while softly stroking your back.

Leah looks at you again while nodding towards the door. The banging is still loud. This time, you can hear Sam’s voice through the door.

“For fucks same, give me my daughter. It’s my weekend! I know that you are awake”

You shake your head violently before tears swell in your eyes. You cannot find it in you to deal with Sam tonight.

“Go” Leah whispers while pointing upstairs. Your eyes widen.

“But what if she hurt-“

“I’m stronger and taller, I’m gonna be fine. Go calm Ella down, and I’ll be there soon, okay?” Leah urges moving towards the door.

You nod rapidly before going for a beeline up the stairs. You hear the door open up as you move upwards.

“Leah? Get me my kid will you” Sam commands.

Leah crosses her arms while looking firmly into her eyes.

“No, it’s past bedtime. She’s sleeping, or was before you scared her”.

“Nah, listen mate, this doesn’t involve you” Sam laughs before pushing towards the door.

Leah pushes Sam away from the entrance before grabbing the handle.

“I pay for the diapers, the clothes, the food. I put her to bed, I wake up with her at night and I wake up with her in the morning. I give her kisses and hugs, and I give her baths. What do you do?”

Sam looks at Leah with a gaze in shock.

“I, uh, I.. This is ridiculous, can I come and get her? It’ll be quick”

Leah grabs the door handle, and closes the door. But before she completely closes it, she looks Sam straight in her eyes.

“No, I suggest you leave before I call the police on trespassing.”

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso community #leah williamson x reader #sam kerr x reader #arsenal women #chelsea women

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lunasfics · 6 months ago

Text

Found Family - Under the Blossoms

summary: You’re new to that concept, it’s one thing you have yet to fully adjust to. The concept of people actively choosing to love you as you are, people who care if you disappear without a trace, people who see your flaws and shortcomings and still choose to see the good in you.

this is sort of a continuation to found family! read here

pairings: Batfam x f! Reader, Supers x f! Reader

word count: 2k

request: "I neeeeeeed more Wayne-Kent daughter stuff. Your first post was truly amazing. Can I request a fic gets really upset about something and she hasn’t been home in a couple days. Everyone is looking for her but she’s hiding somewhere far away, maybe in Japan surrounded by cherry blossoms and a koi pond in the forest. Clark finds her and brings Bruce with him to see if she’s okay. You can change anything that you want but just the premise of the reader missing. Thank you!!! " requested by @ashdoctor

a/n: hi! i would first and foremost like to thank the sender of this request because I have had the worst writers block and this kind pulled me out of it :).also this not not proofread so sorry in advance for any typos,,,, anyway, this is kinda focused a bit on bruce and y/n's relationship cause they're both like. fucked up and complicated lolol but yeah I hope you like it! ALSO! i based the old japanese couple on a haikyuu character kita shinsuke, cause why not i thought it'd be fun

“Shit.”

“Well I’ve flown through all of Gotham and Metropolis twice, and did a once-over around the country, not a trace. I’m getting really worried.”

“She has to be somewhere, how long have we been searching?”

“Going on day 3.”

“Fuck.”

“I’ve checked every landmark I’ve taken her to see during our training, I haven’t seen her once.”

“We’ll keep looking.”

The comms have been flooded for the past two days with nervous chatter and consistent but pointless updates in regards to your unknown whereabouts. Clark and Connor have been doing the physical searching while Bruce has hacked into any and every surveillance camera he could in hopes of the system picking up your face somewhere, anywhere.

Your siblings have taken over Gotham patrols, Barbara occasionally taking over the online search while Alfred forces Bruce to get some sleep.

You’ve been living with him for well over six months now, adjustment has gotten easier for you, and you’d gotten more comfortable in going off on your own to explore. Now, Clark never has a problem with this, encouraging you to explore as much as you could, “The world has so much to offer, soon you’ll understand why we care so much for keeping it safe” he’d say.

Bruce however felt it was reckless to use your powers so casually, you shouldn’t depend on them the way you do, that it's a liability to your civilian life. It’s not something you should be so careless about, “Your safety and well-being is not someone you should take lightly.”

Naturally, you are too stubborn to see this was purely out of worry, that he actually cares for you. You’re new to that concept, it’s one thing you have yet to fully adjust to. The concept of people actively choosing to love you as you are, people who care if you disappear without a trace, people who see your flaws and shortcomings and still choose to see the good in you.

Maybe that’s why you reacted the way you did during your last conversation with Bruce. The seething anger that heated your bones, the dense lump that formed in your throat as you spoke. The unpleasant pit in your stomach as you slammed the cave door behind you, the sweaty palms and the inexplicable reflex within you that told you to keep yourself guarded. To not let these people close enough to stab you in the back, to protect yourself and your skills. Do not allow yourself to be held back.

So now here you are, on some farmland in a tiny town in Japan. You weren’t sure this town has had access to any recent tech for at least the past ten years. It was a refreshing change, it reminded you of all your favorite things about Smallville. The smell of the crops and the way the cherry blossoms bloomed along the outskirts of the fields in the spring. The pink of the petals was soft and peaceful, the wind blowing softly through them released a pleasant floral smell that made you feel at peace.

Arriving there was an experience, you just flew and flew until you found yourself in a field at the crack of dawn, opening your eyes to an elderly Japanese couple standing over you, concern etched into their aged faces, confusion was evident in the way they spoke to you, but so was kindness.

Mr and Mrs Kita were kind people, taking you in without question because they knew you were in need. They told you their story, about their grandson and how he goes to school in the city.

And so they invited you in and were delighted to find that you speak Japanese, although their dialect was different from yours, they welcomed you with open arms. You’ve worked in their fields the past two days, finding peace within yourself, and as nice as it was, you missed your family.

Back in the house, the couple observes you as they do everyday, you pay no mind as you continue to harvest crops.

“She’s a bit of an odd one, isn't she?”

“I quite like her, honest worker, though she seems as though she carries a heavy burden.”

“Yes, I noticed that. She's quite adorable, she almost reminds me of our Shinsuke.”

“I do see it Dear, perhaps they’ll meet when he visits for the summer.”

“I do hope so.”

“I’ve got something.” Bruce stood in his seat, gloved hands clicking away relentlessly as the batcomputer, pulling up a global map of movements that have broken the sound barrier within the past week.

Clark stood behind him, eyeing the screen that was littered with red lines, the United States being full to the brim given their recent search. There were more streaks around the world leading to the landmarks, all which Clark could recall making. However there was one that stood out to him, a singular streak that abruptly stops in the middle of Hyogo, Japan.

“What could she possibly be doing in the middle of Japan”

“I really don’t know Clark but we need to go now. Wait for me outside, I’ll update the others.”

All that was going through Bruce’s mind was seeing you again, having a rational, calm conversation where he isn’t so wound up from a failed mission and where you don’t feel so backed into a corner.

Bruce Wayne isn’t very much a man of expressing feelings, granted, over time he has improved immensely, but he is nowhere near perfect and neither are you. You’re two people, a father and his daughter who are trying their best to be better for each other and for those you love.

Bruce is a man who at times tends to lack patience, there are not many things he isn’t good at, unfortunately being emotionally vulnerable is one of the things he could use improvement on.

That’s probably why he let you go that night instead of chasing after you, and it’s probably why he stayed silent while Lois was telling him off when he first told her and Clark that you were missing.

If he’s learned anything in his time as a father, it’s that he’d do better, and he will continue to be a better father today than he was yesterday.

Regardless, he knew he needed to get his daughter.

For one hour every day, at one o’ clock, you went and sat under the cherry blossoms, inhaling the comforting floral fumes, feeling the defined rays of sunlight peak through the branches of the tree and onto your soft skin.

You knew the soft breeze by heart now, the way it felt softly dancing through your hair, the cool sensation of it against your hairline as it kissed away the beads of sweat formed by the day of work in the sun. You had decided last night that today you would go home, as peaceful as it was there you missed your family. You missed your dads and brothers and sisters, you missed the civilians you’d help on patrol. You missed helping people, but more than that you missed your family. You missed baking for them and laughing with them, learning about life and society with them by your side every step of the way. You had decided that today at sundown. you would leave everything in order and organized for the Kitas and bid your farewells, of course you would visit soon, they’re kind people who took care of you when you needed it.

You immediately knew something was off when you felt a sudden gust of air, uncharacteristic for the climate in this area. You knew for certain something was off when you heard the familiar swoosh of that cape.

You turned slowly and sure enough, you saw Bruce, walking towards you in long powerful strides, Clark not far behind him.

His steps are aggressive, almost sloppy, his strides large and powerful, his walk having more purpose than you’d ever seen it.

You prepared yourself for the lecture, the mental image of his condescending glare as he breaded you for your lack of self preservation, your recklessness, how this could have compromised your identity, how you're stupid, so so stupid. How you don’t think. How you’re not worth it, a lost cause-

Two strong arms wrapped themselves around you before you knew what was happening. The scent of cologne and the faint smell of metal filling your senses, why isn’t he yelling at me?

“I was so worried. We all were. Please, don’t do that again, we’ll talk it through next time. I’m sorry.” His voice was gentle, not what you were expecting, his voice was kind, so much so that you felt your eyes glaze over, a wet sensation making its way down your cheek. . You were crying. There was that puddle of warmth pooling in your chest, that sense of security and safety. Clark came up behind you and held you tight, the feeling intensified.

Ah. Now it made sense. His steps weren't aggressive, they were nervous, emotional.

“You really had us scared there, kiddo. Next time, come to Metropolis, or Smallville, or the tower, anywhere with anyone, but talk to us. We’re always going to be here for you because that’s what family is.”

Tears fell from your eyes, though you didn't understand why, tears were typically for sadness, but you weren’t sad. These were tears of disbelief, of joy, of love. How funny it is that you never, not once thought you could possibly be cared for like this, that you could ever obtain a proper family like the kinds you learned about. You decided then and there that you would be damned if you ever lost them, if you ever left this.

“I’m sorry I left, I shouldn’t have. I was going to go back today– the people. The people here have been taking care of me, I was going to help them and say goodbye.”

Clark shook his head, “You don’t need to apologize, it’s okay, Y/n. Why don’t you go say goodbye, and we can have dinner with Ma and Pa. Sound good?”

You nodded gingerly, feeling like a small child, you never got a childhood, you didn’t get coddled nor did you get spoken to in a loving manner. You were never reassured nor were you truly shown kindness until the night they saved you from that lab.

The world is a cold and scary place. You’d seen some of humanity's worst, you were created by them, you were intended to be one of them. You’ve found that within the world there’s kindness, there’s love, there’s peace.

You pulled away from them and made your way through the field and into the house, smiling at Mr and Mrs Kita sitting at the dinner table playing a game of chess, Mrs. Kita stood and smiled at you, as if she already knew.

“I want to thank you both sincerely for your hospitality, I can’t thank you enough for the kindness you have shown me,” your voice shook but you continued, “I promise to visit again soon, and anything you need, please let me know and I will give it to you.”

Mr. Kita laughed and shook his head, “You owe us nothing, if anything we owe you, the fields look better than I’ve ever seen them, you’re always welcome here.”

Mrs. Kita smacked his arm lightly, and smiled and pulled you in for a hug, “That isn’t the only reason, what he means is we will always welcome you here with open arms, Dear, be safe.”

You hugged them and retreated back to your dads, joining them on their way back to Kansas, where your loving family was already waiting.

Bonus!

“My goodness! Did you see that scary man in the cape outside? How cold he looked.” Mrs. Kita shuddered as she laid next to her husband.

“Yes, I did, and my, that bulky fellow in the blue? He could do without the leggings.”

“I think they do him quite a service… from behind at least.”

“My goodness Yumie, have some class Dear.” He shook his head.

She laughed, “Well, you don’t have it like you used to, old man. I’d like something to look at every so often, why don't you go buy yourself some leggings?”

He scoffed, “Not happening, Woman. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. They best not keep Y/n from visiting or I’ll fly to the states and get her myself.”

The room erupted into giggles and laughter, it was peaceful in the small farm in Hyogo that night.

Taglist! Went ahead and just reused the one from the first chapter! If you'd like to be removed, send an ask to let me know!

Taglist- @one-green-frog @bonniecat @minnieearsposts @chickentenderx @murkyponds @loserwithnofriends @ilikefanfics4 @fangirlvibez @instantplaiddream @lovelywritersgarden @calicocat45 @strawberrycreamh @sappynappysworld @zyuuuu @allycat4458 @lovelypitasworld @batfamlover @pterodactyl-hater @american-idiot21 @starlets-things @th1s-b1tch-1s-dead @dontgivemeyourname @normal-internet-user @sillyfinn @lostgirlsstuff @llvmakk @princess76179 @vanessa-boo @1lellykins @blitzythefanvergentpitsterthings @samibrewss @pickyblue12 @thetiredtoad0-0 @lacklustertrashbag @biadoll21 @blublock404

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